Splash, Final Version
by Storms-Are-My-Nature
Summary: There is a fine line between right and wrong. What happens if the line gets blurred? The team go on a trip to the Channel Islands, but what appears to be an easy, light-hearted job turns into more than they had bargained for... DW x-over later on. J/I
1. Disclaimer

Okay, this is the final version of Splash. It's rather different to the first one, but I like to think that it's better. :-D There are still plot-holes the size of Cardiff Bay, but that's not much different to the actual show. :-P

I'm putting it all up in one go (split into 14 chapters) because I'll probably forget to put a chapter up each day. I'm useless like that. ;-)

This is the last thing I'll be putting up in the Torchwood fandom – see my profile for more information – unless a plot bunny bites me real hard. But I hope you enjoy this, and let me know if you do! XD

Disclaimer: Torchwood is owned by Russell T. Davies and the BBC. No monetary profit is being made from this work of fanfiction.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Ianto Jones was just clearing up the last of the coffee mugs from his colleagues' desks when the secure phone rang, echoing loudly around the cavernous underground Hub. With a sigh, he straightened up, abandoning the search for Gwen's cup which remained hidden beneath the mess of paperwork, and went to his desk, shoving his copy of _The Time-Traveller's Wife_ to one side so he could pick up the handset. "Hello, this is Torchwood Cardiff, how can I help you?" he reeled off, the words easily slipping off his tongue from long practice.

There was a guttural coughing at the other end. Ianto frowned.

"Hello?" he repeated.

"…Ianto Jones…" the voice wheezed, echoing strangely down the line.

Ianto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. He swallowed and gripped the receiver tighter.

"How do you know my name?" he asked sharply.

A dry hack answered him. Ianto tensed, glancing around nervously.

"…so…sorry…" the voice managed to whisper, before the line went dead.

Ianto froze, the receiver still clutched in his right hand. The dead line was droning in his ear; he shakily put it down, before backing away and collapsing into Toshiko's swivel chair.

Captain Jack Harkness jogged down the metal-grate stairs, hands in his pockets and a frown on his chiselled features. As usual, he was dressed in his period military garb; red braces over a light blue shirt and belt with its gun-holster at his hip. "I thought you'd already gone home," he commented.

Ianto's mouth still felt dry. He gestured weakly at the used cups on the tray. "Just cleaning up," he muttered, not meeting Jack's intense blue gaze. "Soon be done."

Jack swung himself down the last three steps, gripping onto the yellow-painted metal rail, and sauntered over. His shock of brown hair bounced along with its owner. "What's up?"

Ianto let the polite, butler persona slide into place. "Nothing, sir. What made you think something was wrong?"

Jack shrugged and grinned brightly at him; Ianto's stomach flip-flopped at the flash of pearly whites. "You just looked ruffled – what was that phone call about?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Can we please drop the 'sir' now? I thought we'd talked about this—"

"I think I'll head off home now," Ianto interrupted, standing up and smoothing down his suit. He tried to smile naturally. "Don't forget that you've got a conference call with UNIT at ten."

"I do?"

Ianto rolled his eyes, buttoning up his coat with fumbling fingers. "Yes, you do. General Forster wants to discuss the new UNIT facility in Pontypridd."

"I thought we discussed that last week."

"They also want to discuss that in—" Ianto checked his watch with a smart twist of his wrist, "—forty-two minutes."

Jack grimaced. "Can't you stay too?"

Ianto paused on his way to the cog-wheel door. "I haven't been home in several days, Jack," he pointed out. "I need to clean out the fridge and feed the cat."

"Who's been feeding him for the past few days?" Jack casually plucked a piece of fluff from Ianto's shoulder.

"Mrs Peters, from next door." Ianto checked his pockets for his keys. "Did I leave my keys on your dresser?"

Jack shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe."

"That's helpful." Ianto rolled his eyes and headed up to Jack's office. Jack followed after him at a more leisurely pace.

"If she's been looking after Moses so far, what difference will another night make?" Jack tried again, leaning on his desk as he watched Ianto rummage around on the dresser-top, down in Jack's bunker.

Ianto clambered back out through the manhole, keys in hand, and dusted down his trousers again. "Jack – it's not just Moses."

"What, then?"

Ianto sighed. "It doesn't matter. Just…never mind. I'll see you in the morning."

"Mind if I drop round later?" Jack's hands found their way to his pockets again, and he put on his most winning smile. "I'll bring Chinese."

Ianto shrugged. "That sounds fine. Should I expect you before midnight, or will General Forster want to keep you longer?"

Jack mock-shuddered. "I hope not. I can't stand the man."

"Try to behave."

"Where's the fun in that?" Jack grinned, blue eyes laughing.

Ianto rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You're impossible. See you later."

-T-

Ianto let himself into his dark flat with a barely audible sigh. His cat, Moses, trotted out of the kitchen, green eyes curious. Moses opened his mouth in a silent meow, begging to be picked up. Ianto obliged, bending down and picking up the black-and-white tom, rubbing his fingers through the warm fur. "Hello boy," he murmured, feeling the cat's purr rumbling in his chest. "I've been a while, haven't I?"

Moses responded with an indignant mrrow, and wriggled to be put down again. Ianto let him go and bent down to unlace his shoes, placing them neatly on the doormat before padding into the sitting room and collapsing on the sofa. He flicked on the television, not with anything in mind to watch but rather just to have something to do. Moses jumped up onto his lap and they spent the next forty minutes watching a documentary on the vineyards of France that Ianto had recorded a couple of weeks ago.

Stroking the purring cat – and getting fur spread across his trousers – Ianto managed to push the unsettling phone call to the back of his mind, and instead focused on looking forward to simply spending the night in with Jack.

At least, he had nearly done so when the phone rang.

Ianto sighed in annoyance, before shifting an indignant Moses and answering it.

"Hello? Ianto Jones speaking."

"…Ianto Jones…"

_Shit. _

"What do you want?" Ianto asked, feeling as if cold fingers were running up and down his back. "How did you get this number?"

**"…so—"**

"If you don't leave me alone, I will track you down and stop you," Ianto warned.

The other end was silent. A rattling breath was sucked in and let out with a trembling hiss. There was a wet slapping sound, and splashing on the other end.

"…islands…"

"What about islands?" Ianto growled.

"…help…us…"

And the line went dead.

Ianto swore and threw the phone at the wall, spinning around and storming into his bedroom. He flung himself on the bed and buried his face in the duvet. It smelt of cats, and Ianto's nose was tickled by cat hairs.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. There were cobwebs all over the place, indicative of how long it had been since he had been home; he felt slightly guilty at leaving his cat here so long, with only doddery old Mrs Peters for company every so often. Maybe he should look at getting Moses a better home.

He got up, going to the window and staring out into lamp-lit Cardiff. He could see why Jack loved to stand on rooftops so much, just looking at the world.

The doorbell rang. Ianto sprang up to get it, mentally berating himself for not tidying up earlier. Not that he needed to tidy, but—

Jack stood on the other side of the door, great-coat on and brilliant smile fixed firmly in place. He even had a couple of pizza boxes clutched in his hands. "Sorry I'm early," he apologised. "The call didn't last that long."

"In other words, you shouted and they did what you wanted." Ianto stood back to let Jack in, taking his coat and hanging it up on the rack. "Like usual."

"I think I got my point across, yeah," Jack agreed.

"Shoes."

Jack put the pizza boxes on the hall table before bending down to unlace his boots. At a stern look from Ianto he left them relatively tidy on the mat next to Ianto's. "I got pizza, that okay?"

Ianto nodded. Jack grinned at him – or rather, _leered_ – and picked up the pizza boxes, sauntering into the kitchen. "Where do you keep your plates?" he called.

Ianto hurried to remove Jack from his kitchen. "I can do it," he said, shooing Jack into the living room. "Pick whatever you want to watch from the DVDs on the shelf."

There was an amused chuckle from Jack. "Somebody's a Bond fan."

Ianto carefully arranged the pizza slices so that they didn't overlap, and flattened the boxes to fit them in the bin. "Rhiannon buys me one every Christmas," he replied.

"She a Bond fan then?"

Ianto snorted. "Not really. She says it's just something easy, and I like them." He picked up the plates and perched on the edge of the sofa as Jack slid _Love Actually _into the machine. "_Love Actually_? Really, Jack?"

Jack flopped down on the sofa next to him. "It's one of my favourite films," he said. "It's brilliant."

Ianto remained to be convinced. "Hmm," was all that he said, still not settling properly. Jack considered him for a moment before grabbing Ianto's legs and swinging them up onto his lap.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't move his feet. He scrubbed a hand across his face tiredly, loosening his tie and mussing up his hair.

Jack smiled, a softer smile than usual, and started massaging Ianto's feet with gentle fingers. Ianto moaned and closed his eyes, ignoring the opening of the film on the TV screen. "That feels good…"

"You're all tense," Jack murmured. "What's wrong?"

Ianto opened one eye a crack to peer at Jack. "What d'you mean?"

"You're usually only this wound-up when something's happened," Jack said.

"That's observant of you."

"I spend most of my day staring at you," Jack joked. "It figures."

"I fear for the safety of the world if you spend all your day watching me when you should be chasing aliens," Ianto replied through a large yawn.

"You still haven't answered my question," Jack said.

"What was that?" Ianto yawned again.

Jack ignored the fact that Ianto was being deliberately obtuse. "What's got you all worked up?" he asked.

Ianto hesitated.

"I just want to help, Ianto."

"I… It's just a prank call I got," Ianto replied, closing his eyes and trying to relax as Jack worked on his feet.

"What happened?" Jack asked. The sound of the TV cut out.

Ianto opened his eyes again to see Jack drop the remote back on the floor, the figures on the screen having silent, animated discussions. "It was nothing, really. I don't know why I got so worked up about them."

"Them?"

Ianto yawned yet again, the assault on the soles of his feet inducing a fuzzy sleepiness in his brain. "I got two. One at the Hub, one at home."

"What did they say?"

"Just some crap about islands and helping them," Ianto said, feeling sleepier with every stroke and press of Jack's fingers. "Not much."

"That all?"

"Mmm… Yeah, 'bout all." Ianto was dangerously nearing falling asleep on the couch, something he really didn't want to do; his back would be killing him for days if he allowed that to happen.

"D'you mind if I check the sound files?" Jack asked carefully, not missing a beat with his massaging.

Ianto frowned, bewildered, and opened both eyes fully to stare at the captain. "Why?"

Jack looked back steadily with blue eyes that acted like a shield, hiding and protecting all that went on behind the enigmatic exterior. "I just want to be certain that it isn't anything we need to worry about," he said, calm and relaxed.

"If you want to," Ianto said.

"Thanks." Jack pulled Ianto tight against his side and picked up the remote, turning the volume back on. Ianto yawned, feeling exhaustion dragging at him with muggy fingers. He let his head flop onto Jack's shoulder, watching the film through half-closed eyes.

-T-

When they finally found a parking space and had got to the Tourist Office, Jack headed on into the Hub whilst Ianto checked that everything was in order in the office.

The captain went straight to Toshiko's workstation and opened up the sound file of Ianto's 'prank' call.

He listened intently as the conversation played through the surround-speakers, and a shiver ran down his spine, like the cold raindrops that slid beneath his coat and shirt when he stood out in the rain as he was wont to do when he was in a particularly mournful mood.

The orange lights flashed and the klaxon wailed as the cog-wheel door slid aside.

Ianto hurried through, the gates swinging apart in front of him, and hurried up to where Jack was sitting at the computers. "What do you think?" he asked, his blue eyes unusually large in his tired face. The purpling bags under them only served to make them appear even bluer, like the feathers of a bluejay.

Jack shrugged, trying to play it nonchalant. "Well, I don't think it's a prank call, at any rate."

"What, then?"

"I recognise that voice from somewhere," Jack admitted. He stood up, closing down the file. "I'll ask Tosh to check it out when she gets in. Find out where they were calling from, that sort of thing."

"Coffee?"

"Why would I say no?" Jack leant down for a brief kiss. An embarrassed cough from behind sent them springing apart, Ianto straightening his suit and both with flushed cheeks.

Toshiko looked faintly amused at their fluster, and set her bag down on her desk. "You're lucky I'm not Owen," she said as she checked through some scan readouts from the printer, "you'd be hearing about that for weeks, knowing him."

"We were wondering if you could possibly run some scans on a call that Ianto got last night," Jack said quickly. "Find out where the caller was, so on."

"No problem." Tosh smiled up at him, unbuttoning her grey cardigan. "Hot in here, isn't it?"

Ianto blushed crimson and fled to seek the refuge of the Hub's kitchenette, leaving Jack gawping at the tiny Japanese woman with her innocent chocolate eyes and soft brown skin, who winked at him before turning back to her workstation.

Jack shook his head in disbelief, before heading up to his office to pretend to do some paperwork. Ianto tended to get tetchy if he didn't at least _pretend_ to be doing some. _It sets a bad example,_ the Welshman had complained. _The others will start thinking that they don't have to do it, and then I'll end up doing it all._

_I don't see anything wrong with that,_ Jack had replied with a cheeky grin, earning himself a stern glare and a threat of decaf.

There was a shout from Toshiko not long after Gwen and Owen had arrived, and Gwen had done her morning ritual of bounding up to Jack's office and proceeding to talk at Jack about her life and anything and everything in between.

"Yeah?" Jack hurried out and took down the steps two at a time. "Have you found something?"

"There must be a glitch in the system," Tosh said, maximizing a page and pointing to the map. "The co-ordinates say that the call was made about a mile off the coast of Guernsey, more than two-hundred metres below sea-level."

"Guernsey, as in the Channel Islands?" Ianto asked.

Toshiko nodded, worrying her upper lip with her teeth. "That's what the computer says," she turned to Jack, "but it can't be right, can it?"

Jack stared at the flashing 'x' on the map for a long moment before replying, "I don't know, Tosh. I really don't know."

-T-

Jack winked at Ianto as the tea-boy entered the boardroom, coffee tray in hand. Owen, a small, thin-faced man, was standing up, hand on hips, shouting at full volume at Jack: "What do you fucking mean, 'We're going on a trip the Channel Islands'? I don't _want_ to go to the bleeding Channel Islands!"

Ianto decided now wasn't the time for a smart reply. Nor was it the time to inform the irate doctor that Ianto hadn't been able to find the cup with his requested 'science experiment' in. _(Read: mug filled with varying moulds and fungi.)_

"There is no way in hell that I am going to go with you, Jack Harkness, for a whole fucking _week_ on a fucking _boat!"_ Owen finished his rant and sat down. Only then did he realise that Ianto hadn't brought in his 'science experiment'.

"Where's my bloody experiment?" He glared at Ianto. "I thought I asked you to bring it in with the fucking coffee? I want to talk to Jack about a new type of mould that seems to like feeding off weevil blood."

Ianto was struggling to keep his face carefully impassive. He managed a sort of contorted grimace.

"I…uh…couldn't find the cup…"

"It's in the bloody microwave – where else do you think it might be?" Owen snapped, wiping his fingers down his white coat. His cockney accent was harsh in his irritation.

Ianto nodded. "Of course sir, that is – of course – the most logical place for it to be. I'll go and get it sorted immediately, _sir_."

Owen stared, open-mouthed, at his retreating back. "Did he – did he just call me _sir_?" he spluttered.

Jack nodded, barely hiding a smile. "He must be very sorry."

**"Sorry my—"**

Owen was interrupted by Gwen rushing in wild-eyed. She dragged out a chair and flopped down into it, pushing her heavy, dark hair back from her face. "I'm so sorry, Jack – I didn't realise we were having a team meeting," she said. "Have I missed anything?"

"Basically, Jack's dragging us out to the Channel Islands because Ianto's got an 'alien' prank caller," Owen said grumpily.

Gwen frowned. "But—"

"No point complaining, sweet'eart," Owen sighed. "I've tried already."

Jack grinned and got to his feet, clapping his hands together. "Right, then. Toshiko – any Rift activity in the next twenty-four hours?"

She shook her head. "Not predicted."

"Okay – you guys better go home and start packing." Jack grinned.

"What about the Rift whilst we're away?" Gwen asked with a frown. "Shouldn't—"

"UNIT have agreed to send a couple of workers down to keep things ticking over," Jack reassured him, though not without a grimace at the thought of UNIT soldiers in the Hub.

"Call us if—" Toshiko started.

"I'll call you if the world decides to end," Jack said, shepherding them out the door. "Have fun and remember – six o'clock tomorrow!"

-T-

The next morning found the team gathered, bleary-eyed, in the Hub, bags piled about their feet.

"No suit today then?" Jack asked Ianto, nodding at the jeans and t-shirt.

"The saltwater wouldn't be very good for them," Ianto replied smoothly. "You hardly go diving in a suit."

"Now that would be a sight to see." Jack grinned naughtily.

"Harassment sir, harassment…" Ianto reminded, studiously trying to not blush.

"You spoil all my fun."

"Only doing my job."

"Now you two have stopped flirting," Owen said, short-tempered and grumpy. "Can we please get a move on?"

Jack climbed into the driver's seat, leaving off the seat-belt as per usual.

"Seat-belt, Jack," Gwen reminded him. "And don't tell me that you don't stay dead. I'm aware of that, but if you crash us and die, we die."

Jack buckled his belt with very bad grace, like a big toddler. Ianto was fairly certain that Jack was possibly worse than a toddler, sometimes.

Owen, in the passenger seat, threw them both dirty looks. "As far as I'm concerned, this is a waste of time. We're going out to the fucking _Channel Islands_ because the tea-boy gets prank-called?"

"I wouldn't complain if I were you, Owen," Tosh said. "After all, you _are_ getting a free holiday out of it."

"Yeah, but…" Owen continued to grouch. Ianto suspected he was feeling jealous about not being able to drink coffee like the others; after an unfortunate incident with an alien artefact Ianto privately termed the 'Risen Mitten', Owen had been brought back from death by Jack and stuck in a permanently zombie-like state of being. Just without the whole brain-eating obsession. That would be rather hard to explain to the rest of the city.

-T-

Tosh stared out of the window as they drove, idly fiddling with the zip on her faux-leather jacket. The world was slipping by, trees melting into grass melting into houses and melting back into trees. She rested her forehead against the cool glass, just watching.

Ianto looked over at her. "You'll strain your eyes if you do that," he informed her, his quiet welsh tone bordering on amused.

Tosh straightened up, chewing on her lip. "I'm bored," she admitted.

"Tell us something we didn't know, Tosh," Owen said, still snappish.

"We could always play I-spy," Ianto suggested. He shrugged when everybody looked to him in disgust. "I rather like it."

Jack grinned. "I-spy it is, then."

"I'll start," Tosh said hurriedly, worried about what Jack would come up with. He had that glint in his eye. "I-spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'c'."

Owen sighed and slumped in his seat. "Let me guess, could it possibly be 'car'?"

"Yes, actually," Tosh said, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. _Why did I choose that?_

"My go then," said Owen. "I-spy with my little eye, something beginning with 't'."

"Tree," Ianto offered.

"Nope."

"Tosh?"

"Why would I choose her?" Owen asked disdainfully. Tosh blushed scarlet and looked away, her toes curling.

Gwen leapt in. "No idea."

"That doesn't begin with 't'," Ianto pointed out.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, tea-boy, but no, it isn't 'No idea'," Owen said dryly. "It was 'This is a complete waste of time'."

"You can't see that," Ianto said instantly.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

"Do I get a go now?" Jack asked hopefully.

"NO!" four voices yelled together.

"Spoilsports."

-T-

Three and a half hours later, the SUV swept into the car park of Leiver Marina and skidded to a halt in front of a rack of dinghies. Jack was first out, leaping down from the driver's seat and helping

"Ianto, why didn't you tell us you felt sick?" Owen demanded.

The said tea-boy looked sheepish. And green. "Sorry."

"I am not going to be the one cleaning out the SUV," Owen continued, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Do you still feel sick?" Jack asked Ianto. "'Cos if you do, they've got some toilets here you can go to."

"'m fine," Ianto muttered, embarrassed by all the fuss and trying not to shiver.

His attempt was useless: Owen saw instantly and said, "Jack, coat."

Jack shed his coat and slipped it around Ianto's shoulders, his fingers touching Ianto for a fraction longer than necessary. Owen shook his head, quickly taking Ianto's temperature and

"You're ill, mate," Owen said. "Maybe it'd be better to call this whole thing off. You need rest, as foreign a phrase as that may be to you."

Ianto tried to pull away, but was stopped by Jack's hand on his arm. "I'll be better soon. There's really no need for this fuss."

Owen viewed him dispassionately. "I'm a doctor, remember? I think I know best."

Jack was frozen in indecision. "Maybe Owen's right," he admitted. "We can leave this investigation for another time."

Ianto glared at him. "Jack. We've talked about this." By 'this', he meant 'Jack not treating Ianto any different than the rest of the team'; however unusual a work-place Torchwood might be, he knew how office-romances could impinge on a good working relationship.

He wriggled free of them and headed to the SUV. "I'll just clean this up and we can be on our way."

"I'll give you a hand," Tosh said quietly, taking off her jacket. Ianto gave her a grateful look and got out the cloths from the boot.

Jack watched him, torn between doing what Owen suggested – taking him straight home for a day or two of coddling – and doing what he knew needed to be done – tracking down these aliens and sending them on their way.

Owen stared at him. "You aren't thinking of carrying on with this?" he wanted to know. "Ianto's sick."

Jack worried his lower lip, still deep in thought. "Ianto wants to carry on," he said finally.

"_Ianto_ refuses to ever admit when he's ill – he's hardly going to now," Owen argued, crossing his arms. "If he doesn't get rest he could be a serious liability to this investigation."

Jack half-smiled. "It's got nothing to do with the fact that you actually care, then?"

"That's irrelevant," Owen snapped. "What is important is that he gets better."

"He'll get better. I'll make sure of that."

Owen looked back at Ianto, who was half in, half out of the SUV. "Fine. Maybe the sea air would be good for him," he admitted grudgingly, "but if he gets any worse we're turning around and going straight home."

"That's fine by me. Just remember, Ianto calls the shots."

Owen growled under his breath. "I'll go and get the keys for the boat."

-T-

The harbourmaster was a shrivelled little man with a wizened face. He was hunched over some papers on his desk when Owen marched in.

"How may I help you today?" Oddly enough, the old man had a Scottish accent. _Just bloody typical_, Owen thought.

"I'm, uh, Torchwood," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "We've got a reservation."

The old man smiled, showing a couple of gold teeth, and opened up a big black folder.

"Torchwood, you say?" he mused. "Ah – berth 35, boat's name Skookumchuck."

"Skookumchuck?" Owen repeated in disbelief. "What sort of name's that?"

"I believe it is an American Indian name," the old man said. "I rather like it. Can you just sign here, please?"

He indicated a dotted line on a form. Owen took the proffered pen and scribbled a barely legible signature. In his opinion, a signature was only a signature if it was impossible to tell whose name it was. And he _was_ a doctor.

"Here are the keys." The harbourmaster slid a bunch of keys across the table. "Don't lose them."

"Right." Owen made to pick up the keys and leave, but the old man gripped his wrist.

"_Beware the shadows,_" the man whispered, his pale blue eyes intense. "_They are moving. So sorry._"

Owen wrenched his wrist away and stared at the man. "What?"

The old man straightened up and blinked. "Is that all, sir?"

Owen frowned. "Yes, thankyou."

"Enjoy your trip."

-T-

"I got the keys," Owen announced. "You're going to love the name of the boat."

Jack's ears perked up. "Oh yeah?"

Ianto, Tosh and Gwen all looked worried. Ianto was still clutching Jack's coat around his shoulders, and his face was even paler than usual, a feat Owen would not have believed possible. That man was so pale a vampire would struggle to compete. Not that Owen could talk, really; his own complexion was hardly rosy, what with being dead and all.

"Skookumchuck," Owen said, over-enunciating every syllable.

"Pardon?" Gwen asked in disbelief.

Owen sighed. "The boat's name is Skookumchuck."

"Catchy," Ianto remarked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Right." Jack seemed slightly disappointed. "Well, then. You and Gwen can go off and open up. We'll finish cleaning the SUV."

"You mean, Tosh and _I_ will finish cleaning the SUV," Ianto said dryly, reaching for another cloth, "whilst you watch."

Jack pulled a mock-horrified face. "You don't honestly expect me to help, do you?"

Ianto simply rolled his eyes.

Gwen looked at Ianto anxiously as she followed Owen down the ramp to the pontoons, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"Will you be alright, pet?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, turning back to the interior of the SUV.

Gwen hesitated. "Okay, then. If you're sure." She ran to catch up with Owen, who was already halfway along the pontoon.

"Glad she's decided to leave the heels at home," Jack remarked. "Could have been nasty."

Tosh threw her cloth to the ground. It made a 'splatting' sound on the tarmac. "There," she said. "I think that's done."

Ianto nodded, his cloth joining hers on the tarmac. "I hope Owen hasn't managed to sink the boat already," he tried to joke.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine—" Ianto started to say, but doubled up convulsively, clutching his stomach; his stomach was trying to turn itself inside-out, then fling itself up into his mouth to boot. He was vaguely aware of Jack at his side, holding him as his body rebelled and his mind swam. Stupidly, he thought that he'd better not actually vomit, as he doubted he'd be able to get hold of a dry cleaner's as quickly as usual.

Finally, the nausea passed, leaving Ianto feeling weak and light-headed. He buried his head in Jack's shoulder, trembling involuntarily. Jack stroked his hair and muttered reassuring nonsense, as Ianto's brain slowly came to the realisation that, yet again, personal had crossed into professional. Ianto pulled back from Jack and gasped, "Tell Owen and you're on decaf for a week."

Jack frowned. "Ianto, you're not well. Owen was right – we'd better call this operation off."

"Not after all this fuss." Ianto gasped as another wave of nausea hit, staggering slightly.

"Come on – let's get you to the boat," Jack suggested. Ianto nodded, not trusting himself to say anything until he was fairly sure he wouldn't puke all over The Coat.

Tosh picked up a couple of bags. "I'll come back for the rest," she said, starting down the ramp.

Ianto frowned slightly as Jack helped him after the techie – not that he needed the help, and screw the whole personal/professional thing – for all the while a thought was whispering in his ear:

_This is somehow connected._


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Owen Harper stared in horror at the boat in front of him.

"Jack has got to be kidding," Gwen said slowly, putting the bags down on the wood slats of the pontoon. She didn't take her eyes from the yacht in front of them. It was white, with teak decks and a dark blue cover over the boom. The writing on the side proclaimed that its name was _Skookumchuck _in bold block capitals.

Owen shook his head. "Bloody hell."

Gwen looked at the key in his hand. "Let's try the key anyway," she suggested.

Owen held out the bunch of keys to her. "Here – you do it."

Gwen snatched the keys and grinned mischievously. "Why? Don't you know how to unlock a boat?"

"I just want to see how you get on board."

Gwen hesitated. The rail around the gunwale was as high as her shoulder. Owen smirked. Gwen took one look at Owen's face and took hold of the rail with both hands, placing one foot on the gunwale; then, she swung herself up and over the rail. She turned, placed her hands on her hips, and stuck her tongue out at Owen.

The medic stuck out his tongue back at her. "Well done, let's see if you can actually unlock the cabin, shall we?"

Gwen tossed back her dark mane of hair, stalking along the side-deck before jumping down into the cockpit. Owen couldn't see what she was doing, but he heard a 'clunk' and a sliding sound as she presumably pushed open the hatch. He clapped as sarcastically as he could. "I now see why Jack hired you," he said dryly, clambering up into the cockpit after her, "you can open boats."

"Piss off."

They peered down into the darkness of the cabin, Owen stretching up on his toes to see over her shoulder. It was too gloomy to make much out, so Gwen clicked on her small, blue-light torch and flashed it around before climbing down the steps.

"What're you doing?"

"Just looking for the light-switch," Gwen replied. Owen heard a clicking sound, as she flicked on all the switches. "Owen, I think the lights are down!"

"Maybe we'll just have to wait for Tosh. Tosh can fix anything," he suggested. "I mean, she's good with this sort of stuff, isn't she? It's her job."

"Gwen? Owen?" Toshiko called, climbing on board.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Owen.

"Why aren't the lights on?" Tosh asked curiously, looking over Owen's shoulder down into the cabin.

Owen, if he wasn't dead, would have blushed. "The, uh, electrics don't seem to be working. We thought you could take a look at it…?"

"Sure," Tosh said cheerily, bustling down the ladder and peering at the bank of switches. "Have you plugged in the electrics?" she asked after a moment.

"Well, no, we didn't know—" Gwen started.

"That's what you need to do – plug in the electrics and turn them on. There should be a switch somewhere," Tosh spoke quickly, looking around the gloomy chamber. "Can I have your torch?"

"Kids?"

Owen swung around to see Jack with his arms around Ianto's shoulders, supporting him as he swayed where he stood.

"Couldn't give us a hand, could you?" Jack asked, flashing a brilliant grin. "He's kinda heavy."

Ianto scowled at Jack. "Look who's talking."

"Are you suggesting that I'm fat?" Jack asked, sounding offended.

"You do have rather a muffin-top," Ianto pointed out, his voice flat with exhaustion.

Jack pulled a face and helped Ianto up into the cockpit, where Ianto had to sit down abruptly and close his eyes for a minute. Jack perched next to him, keeping an arm around him and watching his face carefully. Owen blinked in surprise at the gentleness in Jack's face as he absentmindedly played with Ianto's hair.

Tosh handed the first bag of the pile to Gwen; Owen picked up another and passed it down. "Just dump them on the table," he said.

"Is that all?" Gwen asked, after the last bag had been shifted.

"Yep," Toshiko said.

"Can we get something to eat?" Gwen asked. "It's nearly seven."

Jack looked at his watch in surprise. "I hadn't noticed."

He looked down at Ianto, who had his head on Jack's shoulder and was fast asleep. "Ianto…?"

Ianto muttered something in welsh and wriggled into a more comfortable position. Jack patted his cheek, face amused. "Ianto, my arm's gone numb."

Ianto's eyes fluttered open and he stared about him in confusion, his stormy blue eyes clouded. The frown vanished as he remembered where he was. "Sorry – I must have fallen asleep," he apologised, scrambling up – Jack's coat falling from around his shoulders – and straightening his clothes.

Jack laughed. "Not a problem. But my stomach is telling me that it's dinnertime."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You stomach is always telling you that."

"Hey, it's not my fault if I get hungry. Living forever is a hungry business, I'll have you know!" Jack teased, shrugging on his RAF coat.

"Of course, sir," Ianto replied smoothly, rolling his eyes with the familiarity of long practice.

"You love it really."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Anyone for coffee?" he asked, changing the subject.

Gwen frowned. "You brought the coffee machine with you?"

"Not the actual machine – just a small travelling one," Ianto amended, looking slightly guilty.

"And I thought I was going to go mad from caffeine withdrawal," Jack said.

"Tosh? Gwen?"

"Not for me, thanks – I want to be able to sleep tonight," Tosh replied, sitting down on one of the seats in the main cabin.

Gwen beamed. "Oh, I'd love one, sweetie."

Jack gave Ianto one of the mega-watt Harkness grins. "Please?"

Ianto nodded and went to the pile of luggage, searching through until he found a cardboard box containing the treasured machine.

Owen was frowning in concentration. "Jack, this can't be the right boat. There are only three cabins."

"So?"

"There are five of us, Jack."

"So?"

"We'll have to share."

Gwen spoke up: "Tosh and I can share, can't we, Tosh?"

"Sure," Tosh agreed helpfully.

"That still leaves two cabins between three of us," Owen said awkwardly.

Jack looked confused. "But you don't need…"

"I mean, I don't need to sleep or anything, but I'd like to have my own space," Owen explained. "I still get that, don't I? Just, I don't fancy sharing with either you or tea-boy."

"That's not a problem," Ianto said pleasantly. "I'll sleep out here."

Owen coughed nervously. "Oh. Right."

"You don't need to do that," Jack said. "You can share with me."

Ianto raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly. Jack's face fell, but he quickly covered it up with a smile and wink; Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Can we have the biggest cabin?" Gwen asked hopefully, putting on her best doe-eyed impression. "After all, there _are_ two of us."

Jack shook his head, still grinning. "Nah – I'm captain, I get the biggest cabin."

"But there are two of us," Gwen said, "and only one of you. It makes sense that we should have the bigger one."

"I'm captain," Jack repeated. "And who says that I'll be by myself?"

Ianto groaned and tried to look as if this was of no importance to him.

"But Jack—"

"No, Gwen."

Gwen glared at him and opened one of the doors, slamming it behind her in a fairly accurate impression of a stroppy teenager. Ianto sometimes wondered if he was the only responsible adult on the team, what with Jack, Gwen and Owen all behaving immaturely whenever possible, and Toshiko being too quiet to really keep order.

Owen shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll just go and see where the local chippie is, shall I?"

"I'll come with you," Tosh said. "Just let me get my coat."

Jack grinned at Ianto. "Looks like it's just you and me, then."

"No, Jack."

"I wasn't suggesting anything!" Jack said indignantly.

Ianto raised an eyebrow, amused. "Of course you weren't."

"I wasn't, honestly! Why don't you get that coffee sorted and I'll start unpacking."

"And no trying to jump me when you think I'm not looking," Ianto said, ignoring the smile that was trying to tug at the corners of his mouth, "Gwen's in the next room."

"Surely that makes it all the more fun?"

"Not for me it doesn't."

-T-

Tosh and Owen's footsteps rang flatly through the deserted streets of the town that had been so bustling with life when they had driven through earlier.

The cars parked by the kerb had an empty, hollow-eyed appearance; the interiors darkened and shadowy, the metal dulled and monochrome.

Toshiko listened for the sound of rats or other nocturnal, urban-stalking animals. The back of her neck tingled when no such sounds came, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Owen?" she ventured.

She got a grunt in response, the medic not slowing his quick pace.

"I…does something seem a bit," she cast around for the right word, "_off_ to you, here?"

Owen flicked her a cursory glance. "Like what?"

Toshiko looked down, embarrassment prickling through her scalp. "Well, it's a bit quieter than I'd like," she said.

Owen didn't reply for a moment, and she thought that he was probably smirking at her in that annoying Owen-ish way of his.

Tosh blushed. "Forget it, I'm probably just—"

"No, no – I think you're right," Owen interrupted her. Tosh darted a quick glance at him. "Hell, it's a Friday night, for crying out loud!"

He stopped abruptly and spread his hands, gesturing with his bandaged had at the rather dour pub further down the street. "There should be people everywhere."

Toshiko delved into her pocket, drawing out her PDA and running a quick preliminary scan. "There's no traces of unusual energy, Rift or otherwise."

Owen frowned. "So what's going on?"

Their earpieces both bleeped at the same time. Jack's voice came through, tinny and thin-sounding. "Tosh? Owen? Have you found the chip-shop yet?"

Owen put his hand to his ear, opening the channel. "No, not yet. There's something odd going on here, Jack. I think it could be an idea for you to come and have a look."

"What do you mean by 'odd'?"

Owen paused before answering, the furrow between his eyes deepening. "There's nobody around. It's like walking through a ghost town."

"Is there anywhere that you can see where we can eat?"

Toshiko opened her channel, too. "There's a small pub. Looks a bit on the dodgy side, though."

"Dodgy's good." She could hear the grin in Jack's voice. "Can you give us directions?"

Toshiko quickly reeled off a list of instructions, before closing the channel once more. She shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets, shivering slightly under the chill wind.

"Is it cold?" Owen asked.

Toshiko looked over at him in surprise, then remembered and nodded. "It is rather," she admitted. "Why?"

Owen shrugged. "Just wondering. I couldn't really tell." He started to unbutton his jacket, handing it to her with an awkward smile. "No point you getting a chill. I've enough ill people to look after as it is."

"Thanks." Tosh couldn't help but feel slightly freaked out by the lack of body-warmth in the coat. It was all too easy to forget Owen's 'living dead' status at times, despite the frequent reminders; every time she remembered, it hurt just as much as it had when Owen first 'woke up'. All the same – she was glad that Jack had brought him back.

"Shall we wait for them in the pub, or here?"

Toshiko looked at him as if he had no brain. "Pub, I think. Warmer."

"Pub it is, then."

-T-

"Ianto, you really ought to eat something," Gwen said anxiously, biting into her burger. They were the only people in the pub, excepting the bartender and his wife; as a result, they had to keep all conversation strictly away from Torchwood, as the bartender looked only too eager to eavesdrop.

"I'm not hungry, Gwen." Ianto was trying to ignore Jack's socked foot rubbing against his ankle.

"At least eat a couple of chips," she pressed, wiping ketchup from her chin. "I've got far more than I can eat."

"Really, Gwen – I'm fine. I ate well at lunch," Ianto lied.

"Then threw it up," Gwen said, fixing him with sympathetic hazel eyes that always seemed to be inviting people to confide in her.

Ianto rolled his eyes. Jack prodded him with his foot. "Do I have to order you to eat, Ianto Jones?"

Ianto glared at him, kicking back. "I'm not hungry, Jack."

"Please?" Jack reached out and took his hand, squeezing it slightly before letting go. Ianto felt slightly annoyed, slightly pleased that Jack had done so in front of the others. More pleased than annoyed, although he felt guilty for admitting it. Jack gave him his most winning smile. "Just for me."

"Fine," Ianto said, sounding as grumpy as he could. "Just a couple."

Jack grinned, picking up a chip from his plate and making 'vroom, vroom' sounds as he attempted to fly it into Ianto's mouth. Ianto caught his wrist and took the chip before he could be embarrassed further, giving Jack The Look that said 'If you don't stop being so obvious, you'll be celibate for the next two weeks'.

Unsurprisingly, Jack chose to simply push the plate over to Ianto so that his lover could take a handful rather than risk it coming true.

Ianto smirked. And then had to run for the toilets to throw up.

-T-

Owen sat in his cabin and stared at the wall. He was bored. No, bored was an understatement. Owen was so bored that he would have welcomed even some paperwork, much as he loathed doing it. That was how bored he was.

Who wouldn't be bored, sitting by themselves on a darkened boat with nothing to do all night? Usually Owen would walk at night, just walk. Anywhere. Everywhere. He had already worn out a couple of pairs of shoes in his nightly wanderings. Consequently, he knew Cardiff like the back of his hand; better, even.

But he was on a boat. He couldn't go off for a walk now. He had to just sit there and be quiet. And bored.

Owen wriggled, trying to get more comfortable. He leaned his head back against the polished wooden wall and tried to think of something interesting.

Dissecting Weevils? Nope.

How to get Gwen to lend him her phone so he could prank call everybody on her Contacts list? No. Already done that once; his left ear had never felt the same since.

Thoughts of how he could tease Ianto? Owen had heard him creep into Jack's cabin last night; Gwen owed him a fiver. Luckily for Owen, he hadn't heard much, which was good considering the fact that he didn't think he could get enough brain-bleach to cover every night this week.

What to do?

If Owen had still breath, he would have sighed. Loudly. But he didn't, so couldn't. He couldn't work out how he could still talk, when he had no breath, but he didn't really care, grateful for small mercies.

Suddenly a light flicked on in the main cabin and Jack's voice boomed through the boat: "Right, kids – time to get up!"

Owen rolled his eyes and kicked open his door.

"I wouldn't do that, Owen," Ianto said seriously. He was, surprisingly, in a pair of faded blue jeans and a thick grey sweater, not to mention battered trainers. "We do have to pay if we damage the boat, Torchwood mission or not."

Jack, still in his usual gear, grinned and stretched, yawning. "We'll say that aliens did it. Then we won't be liable."

"In your dreams, Jack," Ianto replied, with a half smile.

"Actually, I dreamt about—"

"Yeah, wonderfully erotic as I'm sure your dreams are, Jack, we don't really wanna hear about them," Owen interrupted, doing up the laces on his trainers.

"You'd love to hear about them really," Jack said with a leer.

Ianto coughed. "Toast do you two?" He caught himself and blushed. "I mean, Jack."

Owen snorted and slammed his cabin door behind himself.

Ianto paused, staring after him with a vaguely worried expression. "Sorry," he said. "So – white or brown?"

-T-

Ianto and Gwen were doing the washing-up twenty minutes later, Gwen washing and Ianto drying. Jack was bent over the SatNav with Toshiko as they planned their course, Owen being generally unhelpful and getting in the way.

Suddenly the VHF radio crackled into life. Everybody jumped as a voice echoed through the cabin.

"…Ianto Jones…"

Ianto paled. "Shit," he whispered, the dishcloth slipping from his limp fingers to crumple on the floor.

"…help…us…"

Jack was instantly by the chart table, the radio in hand. He stared intensely at it, listening to the splashing sounds and the rattling of the breathing.

"…Harkness…"

Jack felt a jolt of surprise twist his stomach. Gwen was watching him intently, her eyes scared.

"…so…sorry…" Interference crackled crazily, blocking out anything else the voice might have to say.

Jack threw down the radio. "Tosh, see if you can find out where the call was made—"

"On it."

"—Owen, finish off the washing up with Gwen—"

"Why me?"

Jack ignored the doctor and touched Ianto on the shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

Ianto sat down unsteadily. "Fine," he muttered, putting a hand to his temple. Jack nodded and turning around to address the others.

There was a heavy thunk from behind him and Jack's head whipped around; Ianto had fainted, his head cracking into the table.

_What the—?_ "Owen, what's wrong with him?" Jack asked, struggling to stay in captain-mode.

Owen frowned, listening to Ianto's breathing. "Not sure. I think he's just blacked out – check his pulse." _Of course. Owen can't feel pulses._

Ianto's pulse was slow and sluggish beneath Jack's fingers. "It's really slow," he said, trying to look as if he was in control. _Captain Jack Harkness, remember? You're Captain Jack Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness doesn't get in a panic because his boyfriend faints. _

Owen stood back and folded his arms. "Okay. Put him on the bed and we'll see how he is when he wakes up."

"What?" Gwen asked.

Owen shrugged. "There's nothing we can do now, other than just wait for him to wake up."

Just then, Ianto gave a shuddering gasp and his eyes snapped open. He flailed, striking out at Jack in panic. "What are you doin— Gerroff me!"

"It's me, Ianto, it's okay—" Jack tried to reassure him. Inside, he was laughing with relief that Ianto was fine. He bit the inside of his cheeks in an attempt to stop himself from grinning stupidly, and dodged one of Ianto's fists as it came dangerously near to his face. "Ianto – look at me."

Ianto locked gazes with him, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving. "J-Jack?"

"What happened?" Gwen wanted to know. "Ianto, pet, tell us what happened."

Ianto let out a shaky breath and managed a weak smile.

"What happened?" Gwen pressed.

Ianto ducked his head, not meeting any of their eyes. "It doesn't matter." His cheeks were flushed a deep red. "Sorry for causing a scene."

_Just talk to us, damn you! _"Ianto, tell us what happened." Jack reached out to touch Ianto's face, momentarily forgetting their 'no touching in public' rule.

Ianto didn't seem to mind. "I… I only fainted. Nothing alien."

Jack and Owen exchanged a glance.

"Ianto, the energy readings went off the scale," Toshiko said seriously. "There's no doubt that there's alien tech involved."

Ianto shrugged. "It was just…nothing. Just blackness. Emptiness," he added, as an afterthought. "No bright lights or aliens chatting to me."

Jack had to smile at that. Typical Ianto, trying to deflect the topic of conversation with a joke – and, sure enough, Gwen instantly asked, "Do aliens normally chat to you when they make you faint?"

"Of course," Ianto deadpanned. "It was only the other day that—"

"Oi, you!" Gwen nudged him, smiling. "Make fun of the new girl, why don't you."

Ianto simply raised an eyebrow. He made to get up, then had to sit back down again, his face whitening.

Owen frowned. "I think you'd better sit down for a bit, mate. Have a rest."

Ianto fixed him with a look. "Owen. I _am_ sitting down. I've only just woken up. I certainly don't need a _rest_."

Owen shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Toshiko was bent over the VHF radio and her PDA. "Jack – I've got the co-ordinates from the caller."

Jack looked over. "What've you found?"

"The readings just don't make sense. Apparently the caller was a mile off the coast of Guernsey, nearly two-hundred feet underwater." Toshiko shook her head. "I don't understand it."

"Right," Jack said decisively, snapping his fingers. "We need to set off straight away."

"Jack, it's six o'clock in the morning!" Gwen said in horror.

Jack grimaced. "We've got a thirteen-hour sail ahead of us."

Owen froze. "Sorry, I can't have heard you right, but I could have sworn you just said we've got a thirteen-hour sail."

Jack nodded. "You heard me right. None of you get sea-sick, by any chance?"

Gwen looked green. "I do."

"Ah."

"We've got some sea-sickness tablets," offered Ianto.

"Where are they?" Gwen asked.

"Back at the Hub."

"Great."

-T-

Ianto frowned at the wheel of the boat, trying to remember the lessons his uncle had taught him. It hadn't been that hard, had it?

"You sure you know how to steer this thing?" Jack asked, peering over Ianto's shoulder. "'Cos I could always have a go—"

"No, no – it's fine," Ianto said hurriedly. "My uncle Gil taught me how to sail. I'm okay."

Jack nodded, and risked a quick kiss to the side of Ianto's neck as the rest of the team were down below. "Well, call if you need any help," he said, before heading down through the hatch again.

"Will do," Ianto murmured, though Jack was out of earshot now. He flexed his fingers and gripped the wheel tighter, peering at the GPS and Autopilot controls beneath their clear plastic cover.

Toshiko clambered up through the hatch, brushing her hair back from her face as she came. "Ianto? Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Ianto agreed distractedly. "No problem."

She smiled shyly and made to start back down, but paused. "Ianto… are you really okay, or did you just say it so that Jack wouldn't worry?"

Ianto felt his stomach jolt in surprise. He frowned at her. "What d'you mean?"

"Don't be obtuse, Ianto," Toshiko said.

"I'm not being obtuse," Ianto said, decidedly not looking at her.

She sighed. "Fine. But are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm _fine_, Tosh," Ianto said as forcefully as he could manage. "Can you tell the others that we're heading off now?"

-T-

"The Queen is _not_ an alien," Jack said, grinning in amusement at Owen.

"But she _could_ be," Owen argued. "Or the corgis, at least."

"Yeah, the corgis are a dead giveaway," Gwen agreed, grinning.

Ianto rolled his eyes, and stood up again to check the Autopilot. "Somehow, I think we'd know if the Queen was an alien," he said, "and I'm pretty certain that the corgis are just dogs, too."

"But you never know," Owen said. "Even if they aren't aliens, _somebody_ in the royal family has to be."

"Well, unless you count the werewolf blood…" Ianto said with a quirked eyebrow.

"No way!" Gwen gasped, her whole face lighting up. "Wait until I tell Rhys that – he's never going to believe it."

"It's the reason Torchwood was established," Ianto said, flicking Jack a quick look. Jack nodded back at him, smiling and relaxed. "Queen Victoria was attacked by a werewolf and decided that Britain needed protection." He didn't mention that the Doctor had been there. That would…_complicate_ things.

"How much longer?" Owen asked Toshiko, who was tapping away at her PDA beside Jack. Ianto saw her quickly minimize her game of Tetris and check the GPS map she also had open.

"Four hours," she said. "Not long."

"Four hours," Owen repeated, letting his head fall into his hands. "I still don't understand what's wrong with getting the ferry like _normal people._"

"We need to be able to go out and conduct our own tests," Jack replied. "We can't do that unless we have a boat."

"What's wrong with a _motor boat,_ then?"

"Too noisy."

"And it pollutes the environment," Toshiko added. "If these aliens live in the sea, then they're bound to not take kindly to pollution."

"Huh." Owen didn't look impressed. "Anybody got anything to do?"

Gwen smiled wickedly. "We can play I—"

"No more I-bloody-spy!" Owen said. "I had enough of that game all of a century ago."

There was silence. Then Jack said, "Well, we can always tell stories."

"What are we, Girl Guides?" Owen snapped. "No. Way. Think of something else."

Ianto rolled his eyes and looked out over the wave-tops. For a split-second, he could have sworn that he saw the fin of a killer whale sticking up through the water, but when he looked again, it was gone. _Must have been a trick of the light,_ he thought to himself, and sat down again.

Less than fifty metres away, a black triangle broke through the surface once more.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Jack sucked up the last of his spaghetti and stared mournfully at his empty plate, looking up at the others, with puppy-dog blue eyes. Ianto rolled his eyes. Gwen sighed and removed Jack's plate from in front of him. "You can't _still_ be hungry?" she asked, incredulous.

"That was only my thirds," he said. "Sailing is hungry work."

"D'you mind?" Owen asked in a strained voice.

Gwen's eyes widened in horror and her hand flew to her mouth. "Owen, I'm sorry! I didn't think."

"Evidently," Ianto murmured, too quiet for anyone to hear.

Owen ignored Gwen's apology and stood up stiffly. "I'm going to go for a walk. Come with me, Tosh?"

Toshiko blushed and nodded, setting down her knife and fork and pushing back her chair. "Of course."

Ianto, Gwen and Jack watched them go in silence. It was only when the door had swung shut behind them did Gwen burst. "I'm so sorry! I didn't think – how could I forget something like that?"

Ianto kept his mouth firmly closed.

"Owen'll get over it, Gwen," Jack said. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

Gwen shook her head. "How can I make it up to him? What could I possibly buy him?"

Ianto felt that it was time to lighten the mood a little. The only problem was, he couldn't think of something funny to say, so he had to settle for sensible instead. "Maybe a DS game?" he suggested tentatively. Gwen frowned.

"Sleep on it," Jack suggested. "It's not that big a deal, anyway."

Gwen's frown didn't get any less, but before she could say anything, her phone rang. "It's Rhys," she explained quickly, before getting up and going to stand outside the door so she could talk to her husband.

Ianto let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Phew."

"My thoughts exactly," Jack agreed. His hand snaked across the table to gently grasp Ianto's. "You okay?"

Ianto nodded. "Fine. Just a little tired."

He almost bit his tongue when he said that. _What a stupid thing to say_, he chided himself mentally.

Alarm flared in Jack's eyes and his grip on Ianto's hand tightened. "D'you want me to get Owen?"

"No – it's nothing," Ianto tried to calm him down. "I meant, it's tiring when Gwen gets…" he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

Jack nodded, relaxing somewhat. "Right. Okay, then."

Ianto looked down at the table and traced the whorls in the wood with his free hand. "You know the mission…?" he started.

"What about it?" Jack asked, confused.

"Well, I was thinking…"

"Thinking…?"

"Are you sure that that these aliens are hostile? They haven't exactly _done_ anything."

"Yet." Jack's face was stony, his eyes cold. "I know this race."

Ianto frowned. "You do?"

Jack nodded. "I've encountered them before," he admitted. "A long time ago. I forget what they're called, but they're bad news. Really bad news."

He broke off, chewing on his lower lip in indecision. Ianto recognised that look; it was the one Jack used when he was trying to choose how much to reveal. He waited silently. Jack would tell him all he needed to know, in time.

"They don't go around killing people as such, but they prey on the sea-creatures of the planet. They end up starving the other predators. Because of that, those starving predators turn on humans."

"Ah."

Jack nodded. "Exactly. But, because they don't directly harm humans, we can't send them away."

"What happened last time?" Ianto asked, thinking hard. They might not be able to force them away, but maybe, if they could _persuade _them to go away…

Jack looked down. "It wasn't with Torchwood. It was when I was a Time Agent," he explained. He met Ianto's eyes. "There was nothing we could do."

"We'll fix it, this time," Ianto found himself promising.

Jack blinked sadly. "I'm not sure that there's much we can do."

Ianto felt his heart rip itself into little tiny pieces at the utter despair he heard in his lover's voice. Jack _never_ gave up, ever! "Don't say that!" he said fiercely in a low growl. "There's everything we can do!"

Jack looked at him dully. "Like what?"

"These aliens are intelligent, right? They could ring us – me – from the bottom of the sea! What's more, they spoke a language we understood. That's got to stand for something."

Jack frowned, taken aback. "What are you suggesting?"

"If we can find their base, talk to them, maybe we can _persuade_ them to go away – we don't have to _force _them!" Ianto explained excitedly, ignoring all the odd looks he was getting from other people sitting in the restaurant.

Understanding lit Jack's eyes, accompanied by a tinge of hope. "But what if they don't want to go? They didn't last time."

Ianto wasn't put out. "They said that they were sorry, didn't they? What if they aren't doing this by choice?"

"D'you think they might be _stranded_ here?"

"Exactly! If we could help them get back home—"

"No." Jack shook his head. "How would we get them back home? There isn't a Rift here, remember?"

Ianto paused. He hadn't thought of that. "We'll think of something," he said finally. "We always do."

-T-

Ianto yawned and rolled over in bed, burying his head in the pillow. Beside him, Jack was seated up in bed, reading with the aid of a reading-light. "D'you want me to turn off the light?" he offered quietly.

"Doesn' ma'ar," Ianto replied groggily, still fidgeting to get comfortable. He removed his head from the pillow and glared at the mattress. "God, could they make these beds any more uncomfortable?"

"That reminds me, have I told you about the time—" Jack was cut off by Ianto's hand slapped across his mouth.

"_Not_ the time, Jack," Ianto said firmly, removing his hand and closing his eyes. "I'm trying to sleep."

Jack grinned affectionately and switched off his light, putting his book away. He lay down on his side behind Ianto and draped an arm over him. Ianto grunted and relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders vanishing. "Mmmmhuh," he murmured. "Much better."

Jack laughed softly. "I wonder if the others have worked out that you're sleeping in here yet."

Ianto's reply was ruined by the huge yawn that escaped him before he finished.

"You could have just agreed to sleep in here in the first place, y'know," Jack pointed out, kissing Ianto's neck.

"Not as fun," Ianto said, already sounding half-asleep.

Jack chuckled and stared out the porthole at the dark water of the marina, listening to the soft lapping of the waves against the hull of _Skookumchuck_. His thoughts drifted from topic to topic. He tended to do a lot of thinking at night, especially now that he had taken to just lying in bed, watching Ianto sleep.

The sort of things he thought about ranged from completely random and irrelevant to what he had been thinking about before. One moment he would be thinking about whether he would be able to persuade the Doctor to take Ianto and himself for a short trip somewhere, and the next he would be wondering if he could prise the secret of Ianto's coffee-making skill from the Welshman, for future knowledge. Once a person had tasted Ianto's coffee, there was no going back to the muck the rest of the world likes to pass off as coffee. There was no way Jack was going to spend the rest of his life without coffee.

His gaze flickered down to Ianto's still form. Even after many, many nights of watching him sleep, Jack would never get tired of it. There was something…enchanting about watching another person relax completely and unwind, unaware of being studied. Ianto was no exception – if anything, he was _more_ enchanting. Though that, really, shouldn't have come as a revelation to Jack. Ianto always had to go one better than the norm.

Ianto snuffled slightly and turned over, nestling against Jack's chest with a soft sigh. Jack smiled and closed his eyes, just savouring in the quiet of the small hours.

-T-

Toshiko couldn't sleep. Her head was buzzing and her fingertips were itching to do some work.

Careful not to disturb Gwen, who was snoring like a pig, Tosh grabbed her laptop and scampered into the main cabin to sit at the table.

She could hear Owen moving about in his cabin – probably reading and re-reading the few books he had brought with him. Toshiko briefly considered offering him a couple of her books. Even though they would be unlikely to last him long, they might do something to alleviate the boredom. Then she remembered the last time she had offered him a boredom-buster…Owen hadn't taken it too well.

She sighed and turned the computer on. It took a few minutes to load, and Tosh drummed her fingers against the varnished top as she waited.

When the screen cleared into her familiar background, she opened up a couple of programs and properly relaxed. The comforting whirr of the computer and the quiet of the boat was intoxicating, like a cup of Ianto's coffee freshly brewed.

Apparently she had one new message in her Inbox.

That was weird.

Toshiko frowned and opened it. The frown-lines in her forehead grew deeper as she quickly read it.

-T-

Jack was rudely jolted out of his doze by a frantic Toshiko. "What is it?" he asked, careful not to wake Ianto.

Tosh's eyes were wide, and she was twisting her fingers awkwardly. "I think there's something you ought to see," she said in a low voice. "Just … don't wake Ianto."

"Why?"

"It's about him."

Jack unwrapped his arm from around Ianto, who awoke in an instant.

"Jack?" Ianto asked uncertainly. "Where're you going?"

"I'll be right back," Jack promised. "Go back to sleep."

"But what is it?" Ianto persisted, sitting up and seeing Toshiko. "Tosh?"

"I just need to show Jack something," she explained guardedly, unsure of how much to tell him. "Won't be a minute."

Ianto shrugged and started to get up. "I'm already awake, I might as well help," he said.

Toshiko's eyes widened imperceptibly. "No, no – you go back to sleep. You must be exhausted."

Ianto narrowed his eyes at them. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing," Jack and Tosh said simultaneously.

Ianto looked hurt, and Jack could have smacked himself. "Look, it's just that if you get up too, then Owen will join in and get in the way, and eventually Gwen would wake up too."

"_Eventually_," Ianto muttered.

Jack felt really guilty. But until he knew what the problem was, he was going to do as Tosh said.

"Sorry, Ianto," he said apologetically.

Toshiko was almost hopping from foot to foot with impatience, and Jack barely had time to throw his lover another remorseful look before she was forcibly dragging him out the cabin and pointing at the screen.

"Jack – look at this email," she said quietly.

Jack read it, before looking up at her with a horrified expression. "But – what do we do?"

Toshiko shook her head, speechless. She readjusted her glasses and tapped a couple of keys on the keyboard.

"If I can find where this message was sent from…" she started carefully. "Then— that's odd."

"What is it?"

"It appears to be that this message wasn't _sent_ at all. There's no e-mail address." Tosh tapped another few buttons.

"What _can_ you find?" Jack said, crossing his arms defensively. "Can you find how it got into your Inbox?"

Toshiko shook her head. "There's nothing – the message seemed to have just…appeared."

"But how is that possible?" Jack asked in confusion.

"It isn't. There's no way that any of this is possible," Toshiko said grimly. "Phones shouldn't be able to work from the bottom of the ocean. They shouldn't be able to influence Ianto and make him ill like this. They shouldn't be able to do _any_ of this."

Jack frowned and read the email again:

_Torchwood – you might want to stop this investigation before somebody gets hurt. Go away and leave us alone. Mr Jones will be fine if you return to Cardiff – all of you. You won't get out of it by sending him back alone. Stay here much longer and we promise you he'll suffer._

_If you value his life in any way, stop this investigation. It's got nothing to do with you or the Rift._

_Stay away._

"But surely we can do _something_," he insisted.

Toshiko met his gaze evenly. "Like what? I can't see any loophole in this."

Jack was silent. Neither could he. He felt helpless, and Jack Harkness was _never_ helpless. Jack Harkness always had a quip or innuendo to make everything better.

But he didn't now.

"Should we tell Ianto?" Tosh asked nervously.

Jack worried his lower lip. If he told him, then Ianto would feel liable for the investigation being called off. On the other hand, he disliked purposely keeping things from him, and he knew that Ianto would feel betrayed if he didn't explain why they were turning around. For, of course, they would be turning around. There was no way he was going to risk Ianto. "Maybe," he said finally. "What do you think?"

"I think you should tell him," Toshiko said instantly. "He would want to know."

"Yeah, I would," Ianto agreed.

Jack and Tosh spun around in surprise, to see Ianto standing in the corner, pale-faced. "I thought I told you to go back to sleep," Jack said sharply. He could have bit off his tongue when he realised how abrupt he sounded.

Ianto's face registered the hurt for a fraction of a second before he had schooled it back into neutral blankness.

"Sorry," Jack apologised. "I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"You don't mean a lot of things," Ianto returned coolly, stepping further into the room to look at the screen of the laptop.

Jack's heart missed a beat. "What do you mean?" he asked in shock.

Ianto ignored him. "I think we should carry on with the investigation," he said after reading the message.

"No way," Jack said instantly. "We're going back home first thing tomorrow."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I think I should get to choose, don't you? It's me they're threatening, after all."

"Yeah, but—"

"And I say we carry on. They could be bluffing," Ianto interrupted him.

"And they could be serious!" Jack retorted, starting to feel angry at the other man. "Don't you see? They chose you because they knew we wouldn't be able to manage without you!"

"That's true," Toshiko agreed quietly. "They chose the most important member of the team that they could actually hurt in some way."

"This is all my fault," Jack said quietly, staring at the ground. "I should have come by myself, instead of dragging you all out."

"And manage a group of unknown aliens all by yourself?" Ianto scoffed. "Fat chance. And you wouldn't last two days without my coffee."

"See?" Jack said. "None of us could manage without you, and not just because of the coffee."

"What are you saying?" Ianto asked quietly, meeting Jack's gaze evenly with calm blue eyes.

Jack dropped his gaze. "I'm saying that I couldn't manage without you, Ianto."

Ianto's lips quirked into the faintest trace of a smile. "I'm well aware of that, sir," he remarked. "But I still think that we should carry on. I'm not a child, Jack, I can look after myself."

Jack stared at him for a moment. "Do you realise what you're suggesting?"

"I'm well aware of what I'm suggesting," Ianto replied. "I know what's at stake."

Jack let his arms fall to his sides. "Okay, then."

Tosh held up a hand. "Jack—"

"Just leave it, Tosh," Jack said, not taking his eyes from Ianto's.

Ianto stifled a yawn and turned back to the cabin door. "Now, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to bed."

-T-

Gwen yawned and sat up. The morning light was filtering through the porthole, bathing the cabin in a warm glow. She checked her watch and frowned. It must be broken. There was no way that it was nearly eleven o'clock.

Oh well. She would just get Ianto to fix it for her – he was good at that sort of thing.

She pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, slathered on some make-up and ran a brush through her unruly hair and sloped into the main cabin.

It was empty except for Ianto, who was sitting at the table idly sipping at a mug of coffee. Gwen's stomach rumbled loudly and he looked up, greeting her with his customary polite smile. He indicated another mug by the sink. "I made you a latté," he offered. "The others went out to try and find out whether the locals have noticed anything weird going on around here."

Gwen stifled a yawn and took her coffee, tasting it gratefully. Nobody could make coffee quite as well as Ianto Jones could, that was a certain fact. Sometimes Gwen wondered whether Ianto had some sort of super-human powers, for he was always there, offering a coffee just as the thought had crossed Gwen's mind in the first place. He was unnaturally efficient at cleaning up after the rest of the team, and was the only person the pterodactyl wouldn't attempt to de-limb.

"Thanks, love," she said. "What time is it?"

Ianto didn't even need to check. "Four to eleven," he said instantly. "You must have been tired."

"Mmmh," Gwen agreed absentmindedly. She frowned at Ianto, noticing the bruises under his eyes and the paleness of his already ivory features. "Are you okay, Ianto? You look a little off-colour."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine, thank you very much," he replied. He was as polite as ever, but Gwen got the feeling that he was deliberately shutting her out. "Toast?"

"Please." Gwen finished her coffee and sighed in contentment. "What time did the others leave?"

"A couple of hours ago," Ianto said, deftly dropping a couple of slices of bread into the portable toaster. Gwen noticed that he didn't take any for himself.

"Aren't you eating?" she asked, concerned.

Ianto didn't meet her eyes, just showed her a fake smile. "I ate with the others, earlier. Did you sleep well?"

Why did Gwen get the impression he wasn't telling her something, and deflecting the conversation off him to something else? "Oh, I slept fine," she replied brightly. "You? Jack snore much?"

"I wouldn't know."

Gwen gave him a look. "Come on, Ianto – we all know that you slept in Jack's cabin last night."

"Or rather, _tried_ to sleep as he hogged the bed," Ianto said, a flash of humour crossing his face.

Gwen laughed. "Rhys does that too. Does Jack then say that you were hogging it?"

"Yep," Ianto agreed.

"Men," Gwen laughed, then covered her mouth in horror as she realised what she had just said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that you weren't a man, I just meant—"

"It's okay, Gwen," Ianto interrupted. He smiled crookedly. "I'm used to it."

Gwen eyed him curiously. "Doesn't it make you angry?"

Ianto shrugged and set the plate of toast down in front of her. Gwen noticed that he had managed to butter it and spread it with her favourite jam without her even realising that he was doing it. "Like I said, after a while you get used to it." He narrowed his eyes at the table. "I admit, it used to upset me a lot, and I yelled at Jack about it." He picked up her empty coffee cup and put it in the sink. "He promised he'd start helping out more, after that."

"Hence the doing the washing up for your birthday," Gwen realised, dipping her finger in the jam and licking it off. "We all heard about that for weeks. Does he do it often?"

"Sometimes. To be honest, I prefer my flat intact, so I tend to do most of that sort of stuff myself," Ianto grinned at her, a proper grin this time. "But he can cook. He couldn't have lived so long without picking the odd thing up."

Gwen shook her head in wonder. "Tosh was right," she said quietly. "You really have domesticated him."

"If I remember rightly, both you and Owen owe Tosh ten pounds," Ianto said dryly.

"You knew that we were betting on you?" Gwen asked in surprise.

"I know everything, remember?" Ianto reminded her, picking up both their mugs and running them under the cold tap. "Not much escapes my attention." He shot her a sharp look, and Gwen blushed, remembering the time she had left her desk in a total mess, with the computer still running and a half-eaten pizza lying on some unfinished paperwork. The next morning she had come in to find the computer shut down, the pizza missing, the paperwork completed and the desk tidy. She never had thanked Ianto. "Ianto, about that time—" she started, but was interrupted by a knock on the hatch. She looked up in surprise as a woman with a round face peered down at them.

"Just thought I'd drop by to say hello," she said in a warm voice, beaming down at them. "I'm Julia Applegate."

"Uh…hi," Ianto said politely, blinking in surprise. "Ianto Jones."

Gwen smiled and stood up. "I'm Gwen Cooper – why don't you come down and have a cup of tea?"

Julia Applegate chuckled and shook her head. "I'd love to, as long as I'm not imposing on you," she replied.

"Not at all," Ianto said truthfully. "I'll just put the kettle on – coffee or tea?"

"Ianto's coffee is amazing," Gwen added as Julia climbed down the ladder.

Julia sat on the seat next to Gwen. "I'm more of a tea person myself, I'm afraid."

"No problem," said Ianto, hands deftly whizzing around the counter as he set about making the tea.

Gwen smiled brightly at the newcomer. "So, are you on holiday here too?" she asked curiously.

Julia laughed. "No, we live here – the boat in the berth next to you. _Blue Dancer_."

"That's a lovely name," Gwen said.

Julia's pale blue eyes were sad as she remembered. "My daughter named her, before—" She broke off, biting her lip.

"Before what?" Gwen pressed gently.

Julia traced a swirl in the wood of the table. "Clara passed away six months ago. Leukaemia."

"I'm sorry," Gwen said softly, squeezing Julia's hand. Ianto placed a mug of tea

Julia took a deep breath. "Anyway, look at me, dropping in on you like this and dumping all m'burdens. I don't know what you must think of me."

"Don't worry – we've all lost people, too," Gwen said, smiling carefully. Ianto's back tensed, as if he thought she was about to share something she shouldn't; she frowned slightly, feeling annoyed that he really thought she couldn't keep a secret. "My husband's aunt passed away a couple of months ago," Gwen said quickly.

Julia looked from her to Ianto. "Oh, so you're married?"

"No, no!" Gwen laughed. "My husband's back home in Cardiff. Ianto and I are here on a working-holiday with some colleagues."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Julia blushed. "Look at me, jumping to conclusions like that. What job do you do?"

Gwen opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. Luckily, Ianto had a cover story already planned out. "We're journalists for a holiday magazine," he jumped in swiftly. "We're working on an issue about the Channel Islands."

"That's lovely," Julia beamed. "You must come around for dinner tonight – I've lived here for long enough to know quite a bit about these Islands."

"That'd be wonderful," Gwen said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "What time—?"

"Ianto! If Gwen isn't up yet, throw some cold water on her!"

Gwen smiled apologetically at Julia. "That's Jack," she explained.

"American? From Cardiff?"

Gwen shrugged. "He's just stubborn."

Ianto had climbed up into the cockpit to inform Jack about their visitor, and Jack now leapt down into the cabin, all brilliant smiles and flapping coat. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said, holding out his hand. "And _who_ are you?"

Behind him, Owen and Ianto synchronously rolled their eyes.

Julia seemed immune to Jack's charm. "_Mrs_ Julia Applegate," she said, putting specific emphasis on the 'mrs'. "I live on the boat next to you."

"Lovely," Jack grinned. "Have you tasted Ianto's coffee yet?"

"I'm more of a tea person, myself," Julia deferred.

Jack stared at her in disbelief. "Nobody doesn't like Ianto's coffee. Seriously. It's orgasmic."

Ianto blushed slightly and cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

"Julia here has just invited us round for dinner tonight," Gwen said, hoping to save Ianto any further embarrassment.

A look of panic flitted over Owen's face, and Jack looked slightly worried for a moment, but he covered it up with a customary, mega-watt Harkness grin. "That'd be fantastic!" he said cheerfully. "It'd be nice to get to know some people around here."

"Research for our articles," Ianto put in.

"What sort of time do you want us?" Gwen asked.

"Six-ish okay?" Julia queried. "None of you are allergic to chilli, I hope?"

Owen obviously saw an opening to get out of eating. "I am, I'm afraid."

Julia's face visibly fell. "Oh. That's a shame. I'll see what else I can do, then."

"No, don't worry about it – I've got an interview with a hotel-manager this afternoon anyway," Owen lied. "I can grab something on the way back."

Julia smiled uncertainly. "If you're sure…"

"Totally." Owen gave her a fake smile.

Julia seemed appeased by this. She stood up, putting her mug on the counter. "I really need to be going," she admitted. "Shopping to do, y'know."

"Thanks for dropping in," Jack said with a beaming smile, reaching out to shake her hand. "Be seeing you."

-T-

Ianto was seated at his laptop, reading through some news on the web, when an e-mail came through.

He opened it, and frowned in confusion. He blinked once, then called over Jack, who came bounding over.

"Yeah?"

Ianto wordlessly pointed at the screen, where the black words stood stark against the back-lit page:

_Better get ready, Ianto Jones. For there's one hell of a ride ahead._

-T-

Gwen was sitting in her and Toshiko's shared cabin, reading a book, when she heard Jack yelling for Tosh.

"Toshiko! We need you over here!" the captain called, bursting into the cabin. "Gwen, where's Tosh?"

Gwen looked up and shrugged. "I don't know where she is, sorry. I think she went for a walk with Owen."

Jack growled under his breath and hurried back into the main cabin. Gwen trailed after him, desperate to know what was going on.

"Jack? What's going on?" she asked, seeing Ianto sitting at the computer with an odd look on his face.

Jack turned to look at her. "I don't know, Gwen," he replied. "That's why I need Tosh."

Ianto's face was very pale and his eyes glittering slightly. He looked at them, the odd half-smile still in place. "_There's nothing you can do_," he said in a dull monotone.

Jack frowned. "Ianto?"

"_We are too strong_."

"Ianto, stop it," Jack said forcefully. "This is no time for jokes."

Gwen was staring at Ianto, frowning. "Jack, I don't think that he's joking." She swallowed. "I don't think he's himself at all."

Shaking slightly, Ianto stood up, without any trace of his usual grace. "_You must desist from this mission_," he intoned. "_Turn back. Turn back._"

Jack swallowed hard. He squared his shoulders and looked Ianto – no, not Ianto. Not his Ianto, an alien – in the eye. "Make me."

As soon as those words left his lips, Jack cursed himself. They were controlling Ianto, the man he— no. Mustn't say it. Mustn't even _think_ about it.

Ianto's pallid face twitched slightly, as if in confusion. The dark, shining eyes, no longer the clear blue Jack adored, blinked. "_That was foolish. We are far more powerful than you._"

Jack tipped his head back and studied him. "That's what you think."

"_We are_."

"Prove it." Gwen's voice was timid but determined, and when Jack looked at her in horror her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shit," she whispered.

Jack ignored her. "There's no need to prove it – nobody need get hurt," he started, holding up his hands, desperately trying to placate. "Let's discuss this sensibly. You let Ianto go, and we'll talk. I can help you."

Ianto, or rather the creature inhabiting the Welshman, was still watching Gwen. He blinked. "_You ask us to prove it. We will prove it_."

And then, like a puppet with cut strings, Ianto crumpled to the floor.

"No!" Jack bellowed, crossing the room in one stride and kneeling down on the floor, searching frantically for a pulse in Ianto's neck. "Gwen, phone Owen."

"But—"

"Just do it!"

Gwen nodded and scuttled away.

Jack's fingers couldn't find that steady throb of life under Ianto's skin. "C'mon, Ianto, don't let me down," he whispered. "I've still got to take you on that holiday, remember? And your sister and her kids are visiting when we get back – what will I tell them? Please, Ianto, don't leave me now."

Still no sign of life. Jack gently kissed Ianto, hoping that the vortex would work its magic, bring Ianto gasping back into life in his arms.

Still nothing.

"No," Jack muttered determinedly. "No, Ianto, you promised!"

Mouth to mouth didn't work either. Nothing was working. Why wasn't it working? "C'mon, Ianto, don't leave me. Don't leave me, please." He stroked Ianto's cheek, still desperately hoping that it wasn't true, that Ianto wasn't— "Please, Ianto. Don't go. Don't leave me, please."

Jack didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew, deep down inside, that his Ianto was gone.

But it didn't make it any easier when he heard Owen say the words.

"Jack, I…" Owen shook his head, still kneeling beside them. "Ianto's gone."

Jack staggered to his feet. He didn't say anything, although he wanted to scream to the skies about how it was so unfair. He ignored the terrified faces of Tosh and Gwen, and walked up the steps, into the cockpit.

The water looked so inviting, so black and cold. Jack looked up at the stars overhead and—

Sinking down into the frigid darkness was a welcome relief from the burning pain the captain felt ripping through his torso, the pain of his heart tearing in two.

Jack opened his eyes, gazed around into the water, and breathed out, feeling the burn and ache in his chest as he allowed the water to gush into his lungs, clouding his brain and dragging him down, down, down…

-T-

Toshiko was crying softly, sitting at the table. Gwen was standing by the door of Owen's cabin, unable to take it in. Owen was still kneeling on the floor by Ianto, head bowed in despair. He had failed. His team-mate, his _friend_, had died because he hadn't been there to save him. And now Jack had…well, Jack had drowned himself. Alright, Jack would come back, gasping his way into life, but Owen felt as if he had doubly failed for that. In startling clarity, he could remember every misdeed he had done Ianto, every insult he had so casually tossed Ianto's way. And now he was gone, and there was no way that Owen could ever make it up to him.

The coffee machine on the counter gave a beep and started to turn off, as if it too realised that its owner had gone. Owen didn't look around as it began to drain and grind to a halt.

Toshiko gave a muted sob and Owen automatically stood up and reached out to envelop her in a hug. She sniffled against his chest, head tucked under his chin. Somewhere, deep in Owen's subconscious, he knew that they'd have to deal with the body, get it back to Cardiff and into the morgue. But he didn't act on it. He just stood there with his Toshiko in his arms and listened to the sounds of Jack pulling himself out of the water and lie on the pontoon in the silence that only comes from deep, gut-tearing grief.

Jack lurched down the steps into the cabin and fell to his knees beside the still corpse. Water was dripping from his clothes and hair, but he just reached out a wet hand and stroked Ianto's cheek with the back of it. "They all die…" he murmured.

Tears blurring her vision, Gwen stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Jack," she whispered.

Jack looked up at her, blue eyes burning. "You're sorry?" he asked incredulously. "If you hadn't provoked it—" He broke off, choking on his own grief. "You're fired."

Toshiko, Owen and Gwen froze.

"Jack, you can't—" Owen started.

Jack cut him off. "I can and I have. Because of her, Ianto's…" His face was stricken, his hand still touching Ianto's chest. "Go, Gwen. You're no longer a member of Torchwood."

Gwen's face creased up in pain and anger. "It isn't my entire fault!" she argued. "I didn't force us to come out here, you did! I didn't make us stay here even when we'd been warned and Ianto's life was at risk!"

Jack reacted as if he'd been slapped. "Get out," he growled through clenched teeth. "How dare you say that this is my fault!"

"It is!" Gwen threw back.

"You're wrong," Jack said quietly. "Completely wrong." He took a step back, his raw gaze tearing into all of them. "I'm getting Ianto back."


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"What do you mean?" Owen asked sharply. "The gloves are gone, and even if they weren't I wouldn't let you."

Jack gave a rough approximation of his brilliant smile, although his heart wasn't in it. "The TARDIS," he said simply.

Toshiko gave a little gasp, tears still sliding down her cheeks. "Jack! You can't!"

Jack's eyes were over-bright. "I can and I will," he said defiantly.

Owen released Tosh and stepped forward, crossing his arms. "We won't let you."

Jack smirked coolly. "That might have worked once, but I've just lost my lover and there's _nothing_ I wouldn't do to get him back."

"Jack, _please_," Toshiko whispered through her tears. "Don't do this."

Jack's flinty gaze softened slightly as he looked at her, but he shook his head. "I can't lose him, not yet. We haven't had long enough."

Tosh bit her lip. "Nobody gets long enough, Jack," she said softly, touching his shoulder. "We just have to make the most of what we get."

Jack looked despairing. "Please, Tosh. I _need_ him back."

Owen stared at the Captain. His face was pale and blotchy from crying, his blue eyes shining with grief and unshed tears, and his wet hair was slowly springing back into position. The medic sighed. "Look, Jack, what if he can't do anything? The Doctor, I mean."

Jack's face clouded with pain. "He must be able to do something. He's got the TARDIS."

Toshiko nodded slowly. "But how are you going to contact him?"

"Martha's got his number." Jack shrugged. "I'll get it off her."

Tosh looked up at Owen, her chocolate-brown eyes uncertain. Owen gave her a little smile and a slight lift of the shoulders, to say, _Whatever you want to do, I'll go along with it. _

Jack noticed the exchange and felt a huge pang for similar ones he'd shared with Ianto. His gaze slid to Ianto's marble face, and unconsciously reached out to touch his cheek. His skin was cold to the touch, which made fresh tears well up in Jack's eyes.

"I'll go and get my phone," he announced. "I'm calling Martha."

The cabin he had shared with the younger man looked no different than it had before. Ianto's pyjamas were still folded up neatly on the covers, his book on the shelf under the porthole. The bed was made, the duvet tucked and smoothed. The pillows were plumped; the morning light, reflected off the water dancing in turquoise patterns across the blue fabric. Even though Jack's world had fallen apart, nothing else had changed.

He steeled himself and picked up his phone. He sat on Ianto's side of the bed, hugging the young man's pillow as he scrolled down the list of contacts.

Martha picked up the phone on the third ring. "Jack?"

Jack bit his lip as he wondered what to say, how to explain the events of the past few hours in a comprehensive way. "Ianto's dead," he blurted out, before clamping his mouth shut, tears welling in his eyes and his throat closing up.

On the other end of the line, Martha was silent for a moment as she digested this information. "Oh Jack," Martha said finally. "I'm coming on the first train down to Cardiff."

"We're not in Cardiff," Jack said thickly. Martha wondered if he was crying. She'd never seen Jack cry – even when he was being tortured, he had never shed a tear. "We're in Guernsey."

"Right. I'll get a plane over," Martha promised. "Or a ferry. Or something."

"I was wondering if you could give me the Doctor's number?" he asked quietly, burying his nose in the pillow and inhaling Ianto's scent. It smelt of honey and warm bread, with the faintest trace of fresh coffee.

"There wouldn't be anything he could do, Jack," she said softly, worry for her friend edging her voice. "Look, I'll be with you by this evening, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

Then the line went dead, and Jack just sat there with the droning buzz in his ear. He bit his lip and let the tears fall, soaking the blue material of the pillow.

Toshiko looked in. "Jack?" she asked.

Jack didn't look up. "Martha says she'll be here by this evening," he said indistinctly, speaking into the pillow.

Toshiko nodded and, on a whim, sat on the bed next to him and wrapped her arms around him. They just sat there, listening as the waves splashed gently against the hull of the boat.

-T-

The TARDIS was throbbing gently as the Doctor relaxed for the first time in several days. He flipped the page of his book, humming to himself. His feet were up on the rim of the console, one foot waggling idly.

Then the phone rang. The Doctor stared at it in annoyance for a moment, before picking up. "Hello?"

"Doctor, it's Martha."

"Hello Martha! What's the call for? End of the world?" he joked.

Martha's voice was sober as she replied, "It is for some."

The Doctor frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's Jack, Doctor. Ianto's just been killed," Martha said sadly.

"_The_ Ianto?" the Doctor asked. "The Ianto who makes the coffee? The Ianto in the suits? The Ianto who Jack went home to?"

"Yes, Doctor," Martha replied patiently. "Ianto Jones. He got killed this morning, by an alien. Jack's distraught."

"Right."

Martha sighed. "I was wondering if you could drop by? He's in Guernsey – don't ask me why. I'm on my way down there now – I think Jack needs all his friends with him at the moment."

"Right."

"Jack needs you, Doctor. Please."

"Right."

"Can you say something other than 'right'?"

"Who're you talking to?" A loud voice interrupted anything he might have been about to say. Donna had entered the control room, wrapped in a white dressing gown.

"Is that Donna?" Martha asked.

"The one and only," the Doctor replied dryly.

"Mind if I speak to her for a minute?"

"'Course." The Doctor handed the mobile to the red-head, mouthing _'It's Martha' _as he did so.

Donna beamed. "Martha! I— what? No!…God, the poor man. Of course. No problem. Right away, I'll make sure that space-man gets there. See you."

She flipped the phone shut and turned to glare at the Doctor. "Guernsey, now."

"But—"

"Now!" Donna snapped. "One of your friends has just lost somebody he loved. You get your skinny ass there right now, Martian-Boy, or you'll get hell to pay for from me!"

The Doctor gulped and nodded, jumping up and busily flicking switched. "All right, all right!"

Donna nodded smugly and grabbed onto the rail as the TARDIS lurched through the Vortex.

-T-

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS with slight trepidation, Donna close on his heels. The cabin was dim, most of the curtains closed. Sat at the table was a thin-faced man with abnormally pale skin, and a small Japanese lady that the Doctor vaguely recognised from somewhere.

Jack was seated on the floor, cradling a dead man's head in his lap. He looked up as the Doctor took another step forward. There were tear-stains on his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy from long bouts of weeping.

"He's dead, Doctor," he choked, the raw agony evident in his eyes.

The Doctor stood there, looking down at the broken man. "I'm so sorry," he finally said solemnly.

Jack's blue eyes flashed with pained anger "Don't say that!" he said angrily. "That's what you say when there's nothing you can do!"

The Doctor was rather lost for words. "I…He's dead, Jack. There _isn't_ anything I can do."

Jack shook his head desperately. "You must be able to do something. The TARDIS brought me back, didn't it?"

"Jack…" the Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair."Even if I knew what to do, would you want to condemn Ianto to the same life you're living? Would he really want that?"

Jack didn't look away, his eyes burning into the Doctor. "No. But we know what went wrong last time – we just need to make sure that we put a full stop on the end. It's _got to work_."

The Doctor shook his head slowly. "Look, Jack, you're grieving. You're not thinking straight. I can't do that – bring Ianto back without knowing exactly what I'm doing. I can't take the risk – the rest of the universe would be at stake."

Jack dearly wanted to say _'Screw the universe'_, but he knew better than that. He just couldn't let go of his lover, not yet. He blinked furiously, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him yet again. "Doctor. I gave my life for you without question on the Game Station." He knew that this was a low blow, but he carried on regardless. "You knew that Rose had brought me back, but you left me behind, surrounded by the dust of the Daleks. You left me there, among all the dead bodies, alone on a satellite, and you never came back."

The Doctor winced. "Look, it wasn't that simple—"

"I waited over a hundred years for you, Doctor. Then, when you finally arrived, you tried to run away again. I sacrificed myself so many times for you, Doctor. I let myself be tortured." Jack's voice was rising as he finally gave vent to all the pent-up emotions that had been building inside him for so long. "I had to watch everybody I loved be killed in front of my eyes and I couldn't do anything. I think, after all that, you really owe me _something_!"

The Doctor couldn't meet the captain's eyes. He knew Jack was right. Yet he didn't know what to do.

Suddenly a stinging slap threw him off-balance. He put a hand to his burning cheek and stared in astonishment at Donna, who was glaring at him in fury. "What was that for?" he asked, shocked.

Donna crossed her arms. "What do you think it was for? Despite all that this man's done for you, you still won't give him the one thing he's begging you for, despite the fact that you could do it!"

Owen spoke up. "Look here, Doctor. I've heard lots about you, and it seems to me that you do a hell of a lot of running away from responsibility. But this time I won't bloody well let you. If you won't help us, then we'll do it ourselves."

The Doctor frowned at him. "You're Owen, right?"

"So what if I am?"

"You're the medic, right?"

"And?"

"Well, do you think that it would be right for me to bring somebody back from the dead?" The Doctor enquired.

Owen flinched. "Happened before, hasn't it?" he muttered quietly.

The Japanese lady squeezed his hand reassuringly. Jack was strangely still. The Doctor felt as if he was missing some important part of the puzzle.

"What d'you mean?" Donna asked warily.

Owen gave a humourless laugh. "Well, there's me, for starters. I'm dead."

The Doctor swung around and glared at Jack. "You idiot!" he hissed. "You can't just have a dead person wandering around, you know. How do you know what might happen?"

Jack looked up at the Doctor with dull eyes and the Doctor felt all his anger drain away. "I'm sorry, Jack. You've just lost somebody you love, this isn't the time."

Jack just stared at him for a long moment, before getting to his feet, gently laying Ianto's head on the floor, and walking into the TARDIS.

The Doctor stood, frozen in shock, as the doors slammed shut behind him and the engine started to grind.

-T-

Jack touched the golden console gently, sweeping his fingertips across the organic surface. He used to dream of showing Ianto this room, of watching his beautiful blue eyes widen in awe as he tried to understand what he was seeing.

If what he was about to do went the right way, then he might still get to introduce Ianto to the TARDIS. Jack could only hope.

He tapped at the screen. "You awake, sweetheart?" he murmured. He felt the TARDIS pulse in acknowledgment.

"Can you do something for me?"

Another pulse. Jack felt the TARDIS's consciousness probing at his own mind. With only a slight hesitation, he allowed his mental barriers to relax and the TARDIS billowed into his mind, golden and warm.

He sighed in relaxation as the TARDIS soothed away the hurt, and he instead focussed on showing the TARDIS what he wanted: namely, Ianto back and happy in his arms.

The TARDIS hummed in appreciation as he showed her images and memories of time spent with his lover – laughter, stolen kisses, embraces, and everything and anything in between. He showed her the love they had shared – the first time he told Ianto that he loved him, their first date, a night spent in eating pizza and watching old James Bond movies on the couch in Ianto's flat. He showed her more recent images – watching Ianto sleep in their cabin whilst the lapping of the waves sounded in his ears, eating spaghetti together in the restaurant. All of this he showed her, and much, much more.

"Can you bring him back to me?" he asked of her. "Please. I'll do anything."

This entire exchange took less than three seconds. That alone should have warned Jack that the TARDIS had something in mind.

Suddenly, without warning, the central column of the TARDIS began to slide up and down with a crooning sound. The TARDIS was rolling so much that Jack felt almost as if he was back on Skookumchuck.

"What's going on?" he gasped, finding himself flat on his back. The TARDIS had no reply.

Jack just prayed that she knew what she was doing and hung on for dear life.

-T-

"What?" The Doctor yelped, as the TARDIS began to fade away. He desperately tried to reach out to his time-space-ship, but his hand grasped air. "Jack!"

Donna sighed impatiently and turned to Tosh and Owen. "Right then, I need a coffee."

Both Toshiko and Owen flinched at the last word, and looked away.

Donna frowned. "What? What did I say?" She saw Tosh's gaze flicker to Ianto's body, still lying on the floor where Jack had laid him. "Oh…I'm sorry." She bit her lip. "He meant a lot to you guys, didn't he?"

She wasn't really expecting a reply, so when Owen spoke it came as a bit of a surprise.

"He did. He was like a brother." Owen's thin lips twisted into a rough approximation of a smile. "He could be bloody annoying and OCD at times, but he was like the younger brother I never had."

"He was my best friend," Toshiko said quietly. "He was always the one who I could confide in, who knew what was wrong without asking." She managed a small, wet laugh. "He used to sit with me if I had to pull an all-nighter, instead of going home with Jack like I know he wanted."

Donna didn't know what to say to this sudden confession. Instead, she turned to what she knew. "I'll make us all a cup of tea," she decided, opening cupboards and filling the kettle.

"Not for me, obviously," Owen pointed out.

Donna stared at him. "How—?"

"How come I'm dead?" Owen asked, tired amusement lacing his voice. "Long story."

Donna shrugged and gestured to the Doctor, who was still rooted to the floor in apparent shock. "We've got time."

Owen looked down at Ianto's pale face. He could look as if he was asleep, if only his eyes were closed. He reached down, and closed them with a gentle hand. "I got shot," he said abruptly, "by a bastard called Aaron Copley. Then Jack brought me back using a resurrection glove—"

"Why doesn't he use that for Ianto now?" Donna questioned, confused. She dropped teabags into the waiting mugs.

"Jack destroyed it," Toshiko explained.

_Bet he regrets that now_, Donna thought, but had the sense not to speak out loud.

"The glove was meant to only bring somebody back for two minutes, but, as you can see, it went wrong with me," Owen finished, not meeting any of their eyes.

"It didn't go wrong," Tosh argued. "It just worked differently than we expected. You're not wrong, Owen."

The Doctor heard the last few words of what the quiet technician said, and snapped out of his trance. "You're WRONG - godammit, Jack!" he suddenly raged. "You shouldn't exist, and now you do this! You're wrong, completely wrong!"

Toshiko barely registered that her hand was moving before she heard the sharp 'crack!' as she smacked the Doctor across the cheek.

The Doctor reeled, hand going to his cheek where there was a quickly reddening mark. "What was that for?" he asked in bewilderment.

Tosh glared at him through tear-filled eyes. "That's what you get for calling Jack wrong! Ianto promised that he'd do it, but—" She broke off, her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs.

Owen reached out for her and pulled her into a comforting embrace. "Ssh…Tosh, love…"

Toshiko wrapped her arms around him and sobbed loudly into his shirt. Owen looked faintly startled, but just carefully patted her head. "Ssh…it's okay, darling…"

Donna shook her head and glared at the Doctor. "Idiot space-man," she muttered. "Sit down and have your tea, before I decide to deck you again!"

The Doctor, with a very much abashed expression, sat down and took the flower-patterned mug from her. "Sorry. I just…" he sighed. "I need the TARDIS. Having it away from me…physically hurts me. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"No, you shouldn't," Donna retorted crisply, not at all pacified.

The Doctor gazed down into the swirling, steaming depths of the tea, and hoped with all his heart that Jack was about to make the right decision.

He just didn't know what the right decision was himself yet.

-T-

It was dark, so dark. Ianto felt alienated from his body; he seemed to be in nothing. A cold void of emptiness, pulling at his gut and crushing his head.

Ianto tried to gather his thoughts, but they were like escaping wisps of smoke, floating away from his hands as he tried to grab at them. The only word that he could keep in his head was _'Jack.'_ He tried to think of more, but nothing would come, only the memory of bright blue eyes and a brilliant smile. Was this 'Jack'?

Ianto felt an inexplicable longing for those eyes and that smile, but he couldn't even attempt to guess why.

He felt a memory flicker into his head like a quick-silver minnow darting through the shallows. A scent, a unique scent that tingled in his brain and sparked a surge of sadness. Why did this scent make him sad?

He held onto that scent, the blue eyes and the smile like a survivor of the Titanic might have clung to a piece of wreckage, fearful that if he let them go, he would be completely lost.

Then another memory slipped in, of soft lips gently caressing his own. Ianto reached up a sluggish hand to touch his mouth. He trapped this new memory in his mental safe, along with the others, and searched for more.

_Anger_. He recoiled from the next one as if he had been struck. It jolted his senses like an electric shock might, leaving him shuddering in pain. He nearly let it go, but locked it up in the safe all the same. Anything was better than nothing.

Warily, nervous of what else might spring on him, Ianto reached out again, probing for anything that might help. Help to do what, he didn't know.

_Love_. He felt a warm glow of contentment spread throughout him, soothing the senses frazzled by anger. It was like a healing balm, or a hot-water-bottle buried deep inside his chest. This was something he liked; he quickly captured it and placed it, almost reverently, in the safe with everything else he had gathered.

Then, all of a sudden, he was being bombarded by thoughts and feelings. A hand secure in his, a comforting embrace, rough shagging against a cold stone wall, gentle love-making in bed, a not-so-subtle brush of fingers against his as he handed over a coffee cup, smooth levers and knobs beneath his fingertips as he made coffee with his beloved coffee-machine, a metal stop-watch in his hand, the scent of sweat and sex, the bitter reek of blood, the sound of an amused laugh at something he had said, a teasing American accent…the list was endless.

Ianto was left reeling from this mental flood. He felt awash in memories, like being swept out to sea, and he didn't like it one bit. Ianto loved order and precision, and this was too much for him to take in.

He just curled up, covered his ears with his hands, and screamed loud and long.

What seemed like eternity later, Ianto nervously removed his hands from his ears and sat up, looking around nervously. He was alone again, the wash of memories seeming to have—

Wait. No, it hadn't left. It was just stored neatly and carefully into his mind. Ianto cautiously summoned up a random thought and an entire chunk of memory came floating to the surface.

_Jack was sitting in his office, head bent over some paperwork. Ianto opened the door, a cup of coffee in either hand, and was greeted by a blinding grin. _

_"Ianto!" Jack welcomed him in, shoving the forms away to make space for Ianto to sit on the edge of the desk, as per usual. _

_Ianto smiled at him and handed over Jack's blue and white striped mug before taking a perch. "Tosh says that, according to the Rift Predictor, we should get a quiet night."_

_Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Should I tell the others to go home?" _

_Ianto rolled his eyes. "Jack, it's two o'clock in the afternoon."_

_"So?" _

_"Don't you think they'd suspect something?"_

_"Ianto, everybody here knows about us." _

_Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Still, it's a bit obvious. Not appropriate."_

_"Nah – they'll enjoy some time off," Jack replied, pleased with his idea. "Gwen's always complaining about not getting enough time with Rhys." _

_Ianto sighed. "I'll go and tell them now." _

_Jack grinned. "Make sure that you remember the stop-watch!" he called after the younger man as he headed back down into the main Hub. _

Jack poked his head out the TARDIS door, wary of what he might find. He blinked in surprise when he saw that it was the darkened Roald Dahl Plass in Cardiff, just above the Hub. Why had the TARDIS brought him here? He nearly leapt back inside the TARDIS when he saw two figures appear on the invisible lift in front of the water tower, feeling even more confused and more than a little sad when he recognised them as himself and Ianto. Why was the TARDIS making him watch past events?

They were hand in hand, and laughing about something that presumably Owen had done earlier that day. Jack felt a jolt in his stomach as he realised that he was watching himself and Ianto heading out for their first date. They'd gone to see the new Harry Potter, and spent most of the film making out in the back row. As a result, they'd had to go and see the film again, Ianto insisting that he wanted to actually _watch_ this time…and, again, spending a good portion of the film making out.

They'd ended up going to the same film four nights in a row, Jack remembered, until Ianto decided that he'd seen enough of the film to consider it 'watched'.

"…so then Tosh threatened to delete all of Owen's porn if he didn't stop mucking around with the Singularity Scalpel," Ianto was saying, his face glowing in the half-lights from the tall pillars circling the Plass.

"Did he stop?"

"What d'you think?" Ianto grinned. "He wouldn't want several years' worth of porn to get deleted, would he?"

"I bet Tosh deleted some of it anyway."

Jack and the TARDIS were close enough for Jack to see as Ianto simply raised his eyebrow. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, Jack knew that the past-himself and Ianto should see the TARDIS, but also knew that they wouldn't. No doubt the TARDIS was using a nifty perception-changer, or something. Jack didn't really care about the specifics. All he cared about was burning as much of Ianto into his memory as he could; the way he walked, the exact tone of his voice, the way his head tipped back slightly as he laughed.

Then, all too soon, he was gone, and Jack retreated back into the TARDIS, his heart feeling as if it was breaking afresh.

The TARDIS hummed reassuringly. The doors slammed shut behind him, and the time-ship was off once more.

-T-

Jack barely waited for the TARDIS to finish materialising before he was out the door again and breathlessly scanning his surroundings for Ianto's broad shoulders.

The TARDIS had landed in the Torchwood garage. Ianto was wrestling Jack's body out of the passenger seat, Jack's white t-shirt stained crimson with blood from a deep gash across his stomach. Ianto looked bone-weary and stressed, his suit dirty and dark with Jack's blood in places. Jack, simply standing there and watching him, felt a surge of grief so strong that he had to lean against the TARDIS for support. How many times had he seen Ianto like that, tired and strained? Too many to count, that was for sure.

Ianto glanced at the door into the Hub, clearly measuring his chances of carrying Jack all the way back to his office; his lips twisted wryly, and he instead sat cross-legged on the floor, cradling Jack's head in his lap. Jack remembered the fuss Ianto had kicked up over yet another suit ruined by Torchwood, but could only vaguely remember what exactly they had been fighting that time.

Ianto carefully divested Jack of his navy over-shirt – it was shredded beyond repair – and tutted somewhat over the bloodstains in the great-coat, and had just tugged Jack's t-shirt over his head when Jack gasped back into life, flailing madly. Ianto caught his arms with practiced ease, holding him close as Jack squeezed his eyes shut, still feeling the after-effects of reviving. "Ssh," he murmured, voice low and soothing.

"Ianto," Jack gasped, holding onto Ianto's biceps for dear life. The gash in his stomach was little more than a scratch, now, the wounded flesh knitting back together before their very eyes. "The Nicaturian?"

"Dead," Ianto said. "Gwen shot it."

"Good shot, that woman," Jack said, then frowned. "Hang on, aren't they made of hypersteel?"

Ianto chuckled softly. "Energy gun. It was quite spectacular, actually. Shame we'll have to wipe the CCTV."

"Gwen starting clean-up?"

Ianto looked amused. "Not exactly."

"What, then?"

"The energy gun also managed to vapourize all of her clothing," Ianto said, his lips twitching as he tried not to smile. "She's getting dressed at home."

"Shame I missed that," Jack said with a grin, pulling free of Ianto and standing up, rolling his shoulders. The Jack that was standing by the TARDIS couldn't help but admire the flex of toned muscles. Modesty be damned.

"Yeah, well, it's another reason she wants the CCTV erased," Ianto said, finally letting himself smile as he too got to his feet. "Although there's nothing to say that a copy can't be made first."

Jack grinned naughtily, and then frowned. "Where are Owen and Tosh?"

"Administering retcon," Ianto said softly. "Several hundred people saw what happened."

"Not surprising, really," Jack commented with a shrug. "After all, it was a rather big alien. And no, I don't mean that in that way, so stop smirking."

"Not everybody has your filthy mind, Captain." Ianto folded Jack's great-coat over one arm and locked the SUV with the other.

Jack leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Oh, but you do. And I'm standing here half-naked, you do realise."

"You can get a shirt from your room," Ianto said, pointedly misunderstanding.

"Spoilsport," Jack grumbled, though as Ianto pushed open the door down into the Hub, he added, "Thanks, by the way."

"What for?"

"For being here."

Ianto smiled, a small, gentle smile that Jack prided himself on being the only one allowed to see. "I expect the same favour from you."

Then he was gone, leaving both Jacks to puzzle over what he meant by that last statement.

-T-

This time, the TARDIS landed in Ianto's flat. Jack wasted no time in hurrying out the doors, his heart in his mouth, desperate to see more of Ianto so he could remember more. He mustn't forget. He'd promised Ianto that much.

He and Ianto were curled up on the sofa together. By the look of things, it was a Sunday morning; one of Jack's favourite times, when they would simply sit and relax all morning in front of the TV before heading into work once more for the afternoon.

"Jack, I've been thinking…" Ianto started. The present-Jack bit his lip; seeing Ianto had brought an uncomfortable lump to his throat, and he had to fight the urge to run to Ianto and hold him tight and never let him go, screw the consequences.

"Careful," past-Jack teased.

Ianto punched him on the shoulder, softening the blow as to not hurt the captain. "Look who's talking! Anyway, I was just wondering about the psychic realm."

Past-Jack became very still, all of a sudden. Present-Jack felt a proud smile cross his face; he realised now why the TARDIS had brought him here. Clever Ianto. Clever TARDIS.

"What about it?" Past-Jack asked cautiously, his face guarded.

Ianto shrugged. "Just…couldn't you technically bring anyone back from the dead?"

"Not exactly," Jack said quietly. "It…it would kill whoever tried."

"But you can't die."

"No," Jack acknowledged, "but I don't know if it might be the thing to actually kill me for good."

"Don't…" Ianto swallowed, looked away. "Don't you want that?"

Jack took a long time in replying, carefully lacing their fingers together and taking a deep breath. "Not anymore, no."

"Oh." Ianto blinked. "Why?"

Jack smiled. "I've got something to live for. Not many people can save the universe every day for forever."

"Not every day," Ianto said, "just every week or so."

"Are you suggesting that I'm shirking my duty?"

"Of course not," Ianto said, keeping his face perfectly straight. "But, as I was saying, why don't you bring back everyone? I mean, I know you get lonely – but surely you could keep people with you?"

"I wouldn't inflict this on anyone, Ianto," Jack said softly.

"What if they agreed to it?"

"You don't know what you're asking for," Jack said, looking down at their entwined fingers. "Really, you don't. Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I know," Ianto said with exaggerated patience. "But surely a few more years wouldn't make a difference?"

"I guess…" Jack allowed. "I just don't want to risk it. It might not work. Or it could bring you back forever."

Ianto was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I don't mind."

"You would," Jack said bluntly, "and I would." Present-Jack remembered how he had had to screw up his courage and turn Ianto away, use Ianto's natural instinct to put other's wants over his own. "How do you think I would feel, seeing you immortal every day, knowing that it was my fault? I don't want to be tied down."

Ianto's face registered real hurt before the mask slammed down again, and he pulled away from Jack, standing up and rolling his neck to get the kinks out. "We need to be at work in an hour," he said, gathering up the breakfast bowls on the floor beside the sofa.

Jack nodded at him, face tight. "Yeah. You're right."

Present-Jack watched them go their separate ways, then slipped back into the TARDIS and went to the controls. He knew what he had to do, now.


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Gwen scowled at the dark, cloud-filled sky outside her window. The B&B she'd booked into wasn't ideal – cramped and damp, it wasn't five-star by any means – but it was the only place she could find at such short notice. She would catch the ferry home in the morning.

She flipped open her mobile and pressed speed-dial 2. The Hub was speed-dial 1, something that she'd have to change. Then again, no doubt Jack would have Toshiko wipe her phone, to destroy all evidence of Torchwood, before retconning her. How Jack would explain her losing two entire years' worth of memories would remain to be seen – hell, she had even got _married_ in that space of time – but Gwen could only hope that Rhys wouldn't be hurt because of her and her stupid mouth.

"Hello?" Rhys picked up instantly. He had probably been waiting for her to call, Gwen realised guiltily. She had promised to phone every night.

"Hiya," she said, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She sniffed, scrubbing the sleeve of her jacket roughly across her face.

"What is it, Gwennie?" Rhys asked, worried enough to use the pet-name he so rarely used any more.

Gwen couldn't keep back the tears. "Ianto's dead and I'm fired," she sobbed, letting everything spill over.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, calmly and supportively, Rhys asked, "What happened?"

-T-

Martha sighed in relief as she stepped off the ferry onto dry land, right into a puddle. Maybe not so dry land, after all. The nearest Tourist Information board was rimmed with salt and the plastic clouded, so she had to squint to try and make out the tiny writing. "God, I'd need a magnifying glass to read this," she muttered.

With a sigh, she hefted her hastily packed bags in her hands and started down the pier, hopefully to find some accommodation. Hopefully Gwen was taking care of Jack – Martha needed to find a B&B before even attempting to deal with the mess she was about to try and dig her friend out of.

-T-

Gwen finished her phone-call to Rhys and just sat on the bed for a while, feeling her tears drying on her cheeks. She wished she had a tissue, for her nose, which felt sticky and wet. Oh well. Her sleeve would have to do. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and listened to the blare of a car horn in the street outside.

Gwen finally shook herself and stood, stretching to ease the stiffness in her back and shoulders. Her jacket felt uncomfortably tight, squeezing her heart in her ribcage. She opened it, sighing with relief as she felt her body relax, no longer stuck inside the restricting leather jacket. Maybe a walk would do her good; get some fresh air into her. Everything would look better after a walk.

Gwen nearly fell over somebody as she was going down the stairs. "Sorry," she apologised, not looking to see who she had bumped into.

"Gwen?" a surprised voice said, familiar and unexpected.

The Welshwoman spun around and stared into the astonished face of Martha Jones. "Martha? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," the beautiful dark-skinned woman retorted, narrowing her eyes at Gwen. "Where's Jack?"

Gwen hadn't expected the flood of anger colouring her voice as she replied, "Why should I know? According to Jack, everything's my fault so he fired me!"

"He _what_?"

"He fucking fired me," Gwen repeated, her anger gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Martha frowned. "That's not like Jack."

"He still did it."

"He must be really upset," Martha said. "You're his best friend."

"Not anymore, it seems." Gwen sighed. "And I can't really blame him. Me and my stupid mouth…"

Martha raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Gwen laughed humourlessly. "I only managed to cause Ianto's death."

"It can't have been your fault."

"According to Jack it is."

"What happened?" Martha asked. "Just give me the short version."

Gwen shrugged. "I…well, the alien was possessing Ianto, and then I said that it should prove that it was stronger than us."

"Ouch." Martha shook her head. "Not good."

"I feel awful…" Gwen said quietly. "I didn't mean it – I was just so—"

"I know," Martha cut her off. "It's okay. I don't blame you."

Gwen bit her lip, unable to meet her eyes. "Jack does."

"Jack's not thinking straight," Martha said, laying a comforting hand on Gwen's arm. "I'll talk to him. There's no sense in firing you for being upset and saying something that you didn't mean."

Gwen smiled sadly at the other woman. "Thanks, Martha. Though I don't know how much good it'll do."

"There's no harm in trying," Martha said decisively. "C'mon – let's go and find this Captain."

-T-

Jack nearly threw himself out of the TARDIS when it finally ground to a stop.

Donna and Toshiko were sitting at the table, deep in conversation. Owen was glaring at Jack, and the Doctor was—

A fist collided with Jack's head, sending him reeling. He staggered backwards, scowling at the Doctor.

"Don't you dare," the Doctor warned when Jack opened his mouth. "Don't even think about it, Jack! You stole my TARDIS, that—"

"But he brought her back," Donna argued, standing up and folding her arms. "You can't blame him for wanting to bring his lover back."

The Doctor visibly deflated. "Fine. Fine. Did you find what you needed?"

Jack found himself smiling for the first time since Ianto had died. "Yeah. I did." He looked to Toshiko and Owen. "I can bring Ianto back."

Owen held his gaze for a minute, before nodding abruptly. "Do it."

"Do it," Tosh echoed, not taking her gaze from Ianto's prone figure on the polished wooden floor.

Jack followed her gaze, and knelt down beside his lover's body. He picked up Ianto's cold hand – god, so cold – and held it tightly, closing his eyes and letting himself fall into the darkness of the Psychic Realm.

-T-

Ianto was alone, still alone. The blackness was pressing in on him, making it hard to breathe. He wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering as the intense cold tried to bite into his very core. He wished desperately for something to huddle into, feeling the loneliness echo in the void.

He was about to reach into his box of memories for comfort when a distant glow hummed into life, a fuzzy star far away. He watched in fascination as the light grew brighter and more intense, creeping closer as it grew in strength. It felt strangely familiar and soothing; a half-remembered lullaby that he realised that he should know inside out and back to front.

A murmur in his ear startled him. "Ianto?"

He leapt back, confused. "Who are you?"

The light flickered a little, as if Ianto's words had hurt it. "It's me. Jack."

_Jack. _As the word resounded in Ianto's head, the light grew brighter and brighter, until Ianto was blinded. Then, all of a sudden, the light was gone, and in its place a man stood, swathed in a heavy gray-blue RAF coat. His eyes were a clear blue, his nose straight and his face picture-perfect, like nobody else.

"Ianto?" he asked, in a smooth American accent. Ianto remembered that accent.

"Jack."

"You remember me?"

"I…" Ianto hesitated, and Jack flinched in pain. His eyes darkened, and he looked away. Then, all of a sudden, Ianto remembered everything. He felt so stupid for not remembering every facet of this man's face, for not remembering the exact timbre of his voice. "Yes. Of course, Jack. I remember you."

Jack's face relaxed, and his eyes regained a bit of their shine. "You do?"

Ianto smiled at him. "You came to find me."

"Of course."

"I'm glad." Ianto couldn't help but reach out a hand to touch Jack's cheek. "You're really here," he breathed. "I thought—" he broke off, not wanting to upset Jack.

Jack kissed his palm gently. "You thought what?"

Ianto blushed, embarrassed. "I thought that you might not come," he admitted quietly.

Jack swept him into a crushing hug. "Fat chance," he murmured against Ianto's head. "I had to make sure you kept your promise, didn't I?"

Ianto chuckled. "That you did." He leant back and hungrily pressed his lips to Jack's.

Jack responded hungrily, then pulled back, his face regretful. "We need to go."

Ianto felt a flicker of excitement ignite in his chest. "I can come back?"

"What did you think I came for?" Jack responded.

Ianto felt another flame join the first one inside his chest. He wanted to kiss Jack again, but wanted to get home even more. He'd spent far too long in this dark place already.

Jack had clearly read his feelings in his face, because he squeezed Ianto's hand tighter. "Let's go."

-T-

Jack swam back to reality slowly and sluggishly. The first thing he was aware of was Ianto in his arms and the hard wooden floor of the cabin numbing his behind.

"Jack?" Toshiko's quiet voice asked him anxiously, from where she was kneeling next to him. "Are you back?"

He tried for a smile, but it was more like a pained grimace. "Yeah," he croaked. "'m back." He shifted Ianto in his arms, so that his head was resting in Jack's lap.

The Welshman's face was as pale as it had been earlier, and his chest was still. There were no signs of life, and Jack felt a dull pang of panic. What if it hadn't worked?

Then Ianto gave a loud yell and grabbed at Jack, blue eyes wide and scared.

Jack could have collapsed with relief. He wanted to hold Ianto tight and never let go, or kiss him until he was dizzy from the lack of oxygen, but instead he had to make do with dredging up the last wisps of his energy to smile slackly at his lover.

Toshiko gave a little whimper and reached out to draw Ianto into a huge embrace. "You're back," she whispered. "We'd lost you, but—" she broke off, tears spilling over and flooding down her cheeks. Ianto smiled reassuringly at her, but before he could say anything Owen had grabbed him into a bone-cracking hug. Ianto stiffened in surprise, before patting Owen nervously on the back.

Owen drew back almost instantly, seemingly puzzled as to why he'd just hugged the tea-boy. "Glad you're with us again, mate," he mumbled, sitting on the seat again. "Can't say I'm not jealous, though."

Ianto bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Owen. If—" He trailed off and shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, not your fault," Owen replied, not meeting Ianto's eyes. "Doesn't matter."

Ianto nodded sadly, his eyes finding Jack's face. He looked troubled at the grey exhaustion there, and he reached up a stiff arm to touch the captain's cheek. "You okay?"

"Shouldn't it be me asking you that?" Jack managed.

Ianto stroked his thumb along Jack's cheekbone. "You look asleep on your feet," he murmured. "Have you been eating properly?"

_Typical Ianto_, Jack thought with tired amusement. _Always putting the needs of others before his own. _

Ianto sighed when he didn't answer and shook his head, wincing at the click of his neck. "Ouch."

The Doctor emerged from the TARDIS, where he had evidently been checking for signs of damage. "Ah, you're back."

Ianto smiled tersely at him. "Yes. I am. What are you doing here?"

The Doctor seemed oblivious to Ianto's hostility. "Oh, Martha phoned us and told us to stop by. Have you met Donna?" He snaked out an arm and grabbed Donna's shoulder. "This is Donna. Donna Noble."

Donna wrenched her shoulder from the Doctor's grasp. "Oi! Watch it, spaceman." She frowned at Ianto. "You were dead a minute ago."

Ianto held back a grin. "And now I'm very much alive."

Donna turned to the Doctor. "Right, now I've seen everything. How does that work, then?"

The Doctor sniffed and pulled a face. "Very complicated, Donna. You wouldn't understand."

Donna rolled her eyes. "So, seeing as martian-boy here isn't being helpful, I suppose it can wait. Do you want a cuppa? I'm sure that being dead for a while must be quite dehydrating."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'd kill for a coffee, actually." Donna made to touch his machine. "But I can make it," he said hurriedly. "In a minute."

Jack barely registered the amusement sludging through his brain. All the sounds were loud and clashing; the floor was rocking beneath his feet. The cabin was dark; everything was fading in and out of recognition. He felt Ianto's hand tighten on his own. "Jack?"

He wasn't aware of making a sound, but he obviously grunted or something, because Ianto was suddenly sitting up properly and wrapping his arms around Jack. He sagged into Ianto's embrace, too tired to do or say anything else, and just closed his eyes, letting the darkness wash over him.

-T-

Ianto stroked Jack's hair gently, feeling his fingers come more and more to life with each touch. He flexed them experimentally and shuddered at the cracking sound. "Ssh…" he murmured.

The Doctor frowned. "Have you got a bed in here?"

"Yes – just through that door." Ianto tipped his head at the door to his and Jack's cabin. "Why?"

"Well, it might be an idea to let Jack sleep properly," the Doctor pointed out. "He's just dragged you back from death via the Psychic Realm. That's got to take something out of a person."

"So _that's_ what happened," Donna muttered. "Not complicated."

The Doctor ignored her, instead helping Ianto to pick up the captain and lay him gently on the bed.

Ianto pulled the duvet up over him, tucking him in with methodical precision. He kissed Jack's forehead before straightening up and surprising himself with a huge yawn.

"You might want to have a quick snooze too," the Doctor observed.

Ianto rubbed a hand across his face, exhaustion suddenly swamping him. "I think that might be a good idea."

The Doctor nodded and withdrew from the room to let them have some privacy. Ianto just kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers to snuggle against Jack's side. He let his eyes drift shut and listened to the soothing thump of Jack's heart close to his ear.

Gwen hesitated, about to swing herself over the side of the boat. What if Jack got angrier?

Martha cleared her throat impatiently. "Come on, then," she urged. "No point hanging around out here."

Gwen nodded, and clambered over the rail, Martha swiftly following suit.

The lights in the cabin were dimmed, which didn't really surprise Gwen all that much. Jack wouldn't want bright lights at the moment.

She carefully slid back the hatch and peered into the cabin. The first thing she noticed was that Ianto's body was no longer where it had been when she left – had Jack moved it into their cabin, or something? The second thing that caught her attention was the large, blue police-box, crammed in in front of the door to Gwen and Toshiko's cabin.

She heard Martha breathe a sigh of relief when the other woman spotted the box. Gwen frowned. What was a police-box doing here, and, more importantly, how the hell did it get in the cabin in the first place?

"Good that Donna managed to drag the Doctor here," Martha murmured.

"What?" Gwen asked, still perplexed.

Martha shook her head. "I called the Doctor, to try and get him to come."

"Wait – that's the TARDIS?"

Martha shot Gwen a suspicious look. "Hasn't Jack told you guys about the Doctor?"

Gwen shrugged. "Of course. I just didn't immediately think…"

Martha nodded, and called in a soft voice, "Doctor?"

The door of the box swung open and a lanky man with scruffy brown hair and large brown eyes looked out. He grinned when he saw Martha. "Martha Jones! Nice to see you again."

"I just wish it wasn't in such circumstances," Martha said heavily, with a sigh.

The Doctor frowned. "Circumstances?"

"Honestly, Doctor – Ianto being dead? Ring any bells?" Martha climbed down into the crowded cabin, ducking to avoid cracking her head on the hatch.

The Doctor nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes – but he's not any more!"

"What?" Martha asked at exactly the same time that Gwen did.

The Doctor shrugged and sniffed. "To cut a long story short – Jack stole the TARDIS, went off somewhere, came back knowing what to do and brought Ianto back from the Psychic Realm."

"The Psychic Realm?" Gwen echoed. "What's that?"

"Exactly what it says on the label – a realm that exists solely in the unconsciousness. Where the mind exists when it's dead, if you like." The Doctor grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

Martha shook her head. "Okay. Where are they now? I'll need to give Ianto a full physical examination."

"Oh, I think that Ewen did that already."

"Owen," Gwen said.

"Sorry?"

"His name's Owen. Not Ewen," she said.

"I said that – why would I call Owen Ewen? Ewen doesn't even sound that much like Owen – well, maybe a bit." The Doctor frowned and pulled a face. "Well…a lot. But that doesn't mean that I did call him Owen. Ewen. Owen-Ewen. That medic bloke."

Martha rolled her eyes at the Doctor's babbling. "Where are they now, anyway? I'd like to double-check."

The Doctor nodded at the door to Jack and Ianto's cabin. "They're sleeping. Both were exhausted."

"Right." Martha squeezed past the TARDIS, trying not to knock stuff off the work-surface as she went.

"Where are Owen and Tosh?" Gwen asked, noticing for the first time that they were absent.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS fully and plonked himself down by the table. "You must be Gwen – Toshiko mentioned that you might be returning. They said something about going to explain to a friend that you guys wouldn't be coming to dinner. Or something along those lines." He swung his feet up onto the table-top. Gwen noticed that he was wearing red converses.

Gwen nodded and sat down awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

The quiet in the room was stifling. It felt as if somebody had sprayed a can of deodorant over-enthusiastically all around, clogging up the air and prickling at her nose.

The Doctor seemed oblivious to the odd atmosphere. He had his hands behind his head and was humming to himself.

Gwen swallowed. "So, uh, have you known Jack long?"

The Doctor pulled a face. "Depends whose time-line you're talking about."

"Sorry?"

The Doctor sat up properly and stared intently at Gwen, his brown eyes glowing with intelligence. "How much has Jack told you about his past?"

Gwen flushed. "A bit," she said, not wanting to admit that she knew only bits and pieces – barely anything. "Y'know, about having been a Time Agent. And that he's immortal."

The Doctor grinned suddenly and disarmingly. "I met Jack in the 1940's. Then I took him all over the universe, throughout time and space, and, when he died on the Game Station in the 2002nd Century, I left him behind." He paused, eyes darkening with pain. "He then jumped to the 19th Century, and followed me to the end of the universe and beyond.

"For Jack, he's known me for over a hundred years. For me, I've known him for about four years." He shook his head. "I've known him all over time and space, so I guess you could – in a way – say that I've always known Jack." The Doctor finished and sat back again. "That answer your question?"

Gwen nodded, unsure about what to say. She had the nagging suspicion that she had just had the opportunity to find out more about Jack and fumbled it.

Silence descended again.

-T-

"You seem to be fine…" Martha said slowly, eying her scanner doubtfully.

Ianto was perched on the edge of the bed, long legs dangling and hair ruffled. "I told you so. A little stiff, but fine."

Martha nodded at Jack, who was still fast asleep and dead to the world. "I need to check him over next," she said.

Ianto nodded and leant back to kiss Jack gently. "Jack, you need to wake up now."

Jack's eyes didn't open.

Ianto rolled his eyes and poked Jack in the side. "_Jack_. Martha needs to check you over."

Still no response.

Ianto frowned, blue eyes worried. "He doesn't normally take this long to wake up."

Martha climbed onto the bed next to Ianto and peered at Jack, peeling back an eyelid to check his eyes. "He's unconscious," she said in confusion.

"How?"

Martha sat back on her heels and stared at Jack's greyed face. "Jack brought you back to life, right?"

"Yes…"

"And he did that using the power of his mind?"

"I guess… How does that—" He broke off, eyes widening. "Shit."

"Exactly. I think that you might be draining him," Martha said. "I'm sorry, Ianto."

Ianto had turned away from her. He touched his fingertips to Jack's lips briefly, before looking up at Martha with hope burning in his eyes. "But he can't die," he pointed out with forced optimism. "So Jack'll be fine."

Martha shook her head slowly. "I don't think it's that simple, Ianto. I'm really sorry."

Ianto shook his head. "No – we just have to wait for him to wake up. That's all." He sat down, cross-legged by Jack's side, and pulled Jack's head into his lap so that he was cradling his lover. He smiled up reassuringly at Martha, and she saw the little lost boy that he was at heart slipping through the cracks fracturing Ianto's demeanour. "He likes to have someone with him when he wakes up," he explained matter-of-factly. "It's what I usually do. We just wait, then Jack will wake up and it will all be fine."

Martha felt her heart swell with pity for the young Welshman. "I'll go and get the Doctor," she said gently, slipping off the bed and leaving the cabin, only pausing to look back at Ianto, who was murmuring softly to Jack in an undertone, patiently waiting for the captain to return to him.


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The Doctor emerged from the cabin with a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Well?" Martha demanded. "What can we do?"

The Doctor didn't reply for a moment. He sat down and locked his fingers under his chin. "Well…" he said slowly, "I don't really know."

"There's got to be something," Martha said, her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat in what was verging on panic. "We just need to think of it."

Owen was tapping away at the screen of his scanner. He didn't look up as he asked, "Did Ianto say how he was feeling?"

Martha's pulse elevated further. She took a deep calming breath and shrugged. "He said that he was fine when I asked, and there wasn't anything that I found to contradict that. Why?"

Owen looked up, his already pale face eerily lit blue with the light from his PDA. "I've got a hunch," he said grimly. "And if I'm right, then everything's going to go to shit."

"This is all a bit Suzie-esque, don't you think?" Gwen said, pushing back her thick hair from her face.

"Who's Suzie?" The Doctor asked, wary.

"Psycho ex-colleague," Owen explained brusquely. "Long story."

"Gwen brought Suzie back to life using the Resurrection Glove," Toshiko said. "In an effort to keep herself alive, Suzie was draining Gwen's life energy."

The Doctor sucked in air through his teeth, hollowing his cheeks. "Nasty," he said. "So how did you stop Psycho-Suzie?"

"We shot her," Owen replied shortly, handing his PDA to Tosh. "And, as much as tea-boy annoys the hell outta me, I don't think we'd like how Jack would react to that."

"So…" the Doctor mused, dark eyes fixed on a vacant space above the porthole, "we could either let it run its course, so that Jack'll die and Ianto'll survive, or we can find another solution."

"Jack would just come back to life again," Martha agreed. "That sounds like our best option so far."

Gwen shook her head. "But what if Jack doesn't come back to life? What if this is the one thing that finally kills him – for good?"

"We've got to risk it." Owen folded his arms, chewing on the end of a pen he had found lying about. For a doctor, his idea of hygiene left a lot to be desired.

"There's no other choice." Toshiko said. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and examined Owen's PDA readout. "From the tests we've run on Jack, it seems like his life energy is infinite – it's highly improbable that Jack would die for good."

Gwen folded her arms, pasting on an agreeable expression. "Okay, okay… forget I said anything."

Martha nodded. "Let's go and tell Ianto."

-T-

Ianto was still leant against the polished wooden wall of the cabin, Jack's head cradled in his lap. He experimentally tried wiggling his fingers. They felt cramped and stiff; the whole of his body felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar, like a pair of newly-washed jeans.

He could hear the others talking in the other room, but he ignored them. Jack hadn't woken up yet. His eyes were closed, and if Ianto hadn't known better he would have said that Jack was merely asleep. But Ianto did know better, and he knew that Jack was slowly and uncertainly slipping towards the precipice of death.

With any other person, this knowledge might have induced a panic, but Ianto had been with Torchwood – and Jack – long enough to simply wait. Once Jack was dead, he'd come back to life. Then everything would be okay.

That was what Ianto was telling himself. He placed the back of his hand against Jack's cheek. It was cold. So cold.

A knock at the door heralded Martha poking her head around.

"Ianto?" she asked softly.

"He's still out," Ianto replied. "Give him a little longer."

Martha swallowed. "Ianto – we think we've worked out what's wrong." She stepped through, closing the door behind her.

He frowned. "What's that?"

"Owen and Tosh told us about Suzie—"

"This is nothing like that!" Ianto interrupted. "I—"

"We know that, Ianto – it's just an idea. We think that the best thing would be to just let Jack die and—"

"No."

"Sorry?"

"We can't just let him die." Ianto took a deep breath, steadying himself. "What… what if it's the last time?"

Martha perched on the edge of the bed next to him, putting her hand on his knee reassuringly. "Tosh and Owen are pretty certain that won't be the case."

"What does _he_ think?"

"_The Doctor_," Martha said pointedly, "agrees that it's the best thing to do, in these circumstances."

Ianto frowned. "These circumstances?"

"Ianto … there's nothing else we can do." Martha shrugged. "Other than shoot you, that is. And there's no way we're doing that."

Ianto looked away. "I'm meant to be dead, Martha."

"No, you're not," Martha said forcefully. "That was an accident, which was fixed. You're meant to be as alive as the rest of us."

"Excluding Owen." The corner of Ianto's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Other than Owen," Martha conceded. "But you can't just throw your life away – think about what it would do to Jack. To all of us."

Ianto shook his head. "But if I don't, then Jack'll die."

"Jack comes back!" Martha argued. "You don't."

"We don't know for certain that Jack will come back to life," Ianto said in a low voice. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm not going to risk his life simply to save my own."

Martha sighed impatiently. "Look, Jack wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself for him. I know he wouldn't, and you know it too. If Jack was up, he'd be the first to suggest this."

"But Jack's not here," Ianto replied. He stood up and stretched. "And I've got an idea."

"Ianto—" Martha reached out to grab his arm, but he was gone, rushing through the cabin and up the steps.

The Doctor leapt to his feet and was after him in a flash.

The others gaped after them.

"Where's Ianto going?" Gwen asked.

"He said that he's go an idea," Martha said. "We'd better stop him before he does something we'll all regret."

Toshiko's eyes widened in horror. "Do you mean—?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Martha said grimly.

-T-

Blood was pounding in Ianto's ears as he ran, his shoes slapping the wet pavement. His breath was coming in short and ragged breaths, a sharp pain lancing down his side, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He had to fix this. He had to make everything right again.

He ran. And ran. And ran. The houses around him seemed to fade away, and he was only aware of the hard pavement punishing the soles of his feet, and the sound of his harsh breathing and his racing heart which was trying to lurch out of the base of his throat.

The tarmac started to thin out, rocks and pebbles littering the dusty track beneath his flying feet. Ianto had to slow down to accommodate the uneven footing; the loss of speed made everything around his solidify into clearer detail.

The houses were gone, replaced by wide slopes of long grass and trees that were being tossed around by the wind. The sky overhead was dark and menacing; a roll of thunder echoed in the distance, illuminated by a crack of lightning forking across the sky.

Ianto staggered to a halt at the top of the steep incline, his legs suddenly feeling weak and jelloid. He fell to his knees in the damp grass and gasped, sucking much-needed oxygen into his starved lungs. He closed his eyes to try and stop the mad spinning of his vision, but his mind decided to play tricks so he opened them again, trying to focus on his surroundings.

A fine drizzle of rain fell overhead, smudging the outline of the islands far away on the horizon. Ianto gazed out at them, his breathing slowing and his mind calming. For a moment, he thought that he could hear a voice shouting his name, but he dismissed it as wishful thinking. If he thought too much, then he wouldn't do this. He needed to do this.

The cliff edge wasn't that far away. A few feet, and Ianto would be able to mount the fence, and simply step off the edge. It wouldn't take much.

Ianto dragged himself to his feet. His ribs and ankles protested as he stumbled to the fence, clumsily pulling himself over so that he could stand on the very verge.

The wind was cold against his flushed cheeks, ruffling his hair. He shivered involuntarily, the shudders rippling through his rapidly-cooling body.

Far below him, the water looked cold and uninviting. Waves threw up little sprays of white against the soaked rock-face, and clumps of mangled seaweed swirled in eddies and currents. Ianto could taste the salt on his tongue, could smell the brine in the wind.

Ianto raised his eyes to the broken, clouded heavens—

_I'm sorry, Jack._

—and stepped off.

-T-

The Doctor yelled once again, too late. He saw Ianto step forward, saw him fall. The scream died in his throat.

No – he couldn't let Ianto die. Jack would never forgive him; he owed Jack this, at the very least. The Doctor forced a final spurt from his exhausted legs, and skidded to a halt by the fence.

He didn't have time to undress, other than kick off his shoes and fight his way free of his jacket – before he took a deep breath and hurled himself after the Welshman.

The Doctor gasped as he hit the freezing water. He flailed madly for a moment, before collecting himself and struck out, trying to keep himself afloat.

There was no sign of Ianto. The Doctor opened his mouth to call out, and seawater flooded in. He spluttered, coughing, thrashing in the icy water.

A dark shape was splayed out about ten foot away from him, draped over a cluster of weed-clung rock. The Doctor's hearts both clenched in fear as he splashed over.

Another wave soaked his face and hair. The salt stung at his eyes and caught at the back of the Doctor's throat. He had to force himself not to gag.

He treaded water as he patted Ianto's cheek frantically, trying to wake him up. There was a nasty gash in his scalp just above the Welshman's left ear, blood-filled and raw. Ianto's right arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

The Doctor gave up on trying to wake him up. Instead, he clung to the rock and waited for the others to catch up and organize a rescue.

There was a cry from the top of the cliff. The Doctor looked up hopefully, and saw somebody standing up there, unlacing their shoes.

"Hold on!" came the call.

The Doctor nodded, although he knew they couldn't see him. It was more to keep himself moving than anything else.

The person on the cliff pointed their arms above their head and sprang into the air, in a proper dive.

The Doctor winced as more water was splashed all over him, drenching his head further. He wanted to rub the water out of his eyes, but he knew that in doing so he'd only make the sting worse.

Mrs Julia Applegate surfaced, gasping, and swam swiftly over to where the Doctor was clinging to the rock with Ianto.

"Mrs Julia Applegate," she said briefly, offering the Doctor a cordial nod. "We need to try and wake him up – I've phoned for the air ambulance already."

"H-he's unc-c-conscious," the Doctor managed to explain through chattering teeth. Gooseflesh was pimpling his arms through his soaked, and therefore translucent, shirt.

"I can see that, dear." Julia gave him a pointed look, and the Doctor had to bite back an inappropriate laugh at how strange it was to be put down so neatly by an older woman whilst they were waiting for medical help, treading water to keep afloat in a freezing sea.

"Is he breathing properly?" she asked, businesslike.

The Doctor hadn't checked yet. "I think so," he said uncertainly. "I've not checked quite yet – was going to do so now, but then you arrived and so obviously I haven't had the chance—" He was cut off by another wash of salty water into his mouth.

"Best to shut up, dear," Julia said, not unkindly, as she pulled her bulk onto the rock and listened to Ianto's breathing. She nodded in satisfaction as she heard the quiet in- and exhalation. "The helicopter should be here in a few minutes."

The Doctor nodded, and concentrated on keeping his chin above the water.

-T-

Ianto was greeted by dim lights when he opened his eyes. The first thing he realised was that he was lying in some sort of bed, propped up against some pillows. The second was that his head hurt. And then everything else started hurting.

He let out a strangled whimper, and flopped into the mattress. He could hear somebody scrambling to their feet and suddenly his vision was filled by Jack's face.

He smiled weakly up at Jack, too muzzy to remember that Jack was meant to be on the brink of death. He tried to move his arm to touch his lover's face, but found it uncommonly heavy. When he looked down to check, he saw a bulky white cast in place of where his arm should have been.

Ianto looked back up at Jack. The captain's blue eyes were filled with tears, and the huge bags under his eyes purpling.

Jack caressed Ianto's cheek with a gentle hand. "What possessed you to stand right on the edge of a cliff, you idiot?" he asked with a wet chuckle. "That's strictly for me to do."

Ianto frowned. "I—"

Jack stopped him with a gentle forefinger on his lips. "Ssh. Don't try to talk now. We'll discuss everything once you're feeling better."

"But aren't you—"

"Please just rest, Ianto," Jack begged, his worry showing through in his face. "You had a nasty head wound. If the Doctor and Julia hadn't found you when they did—" He broke off, grimacing. "Anyway, I need you up and running as soon as possible. You were out for a good forty-eight hours."

"Two days?" Ianto could hardly believe his ears.  
"What—"

"Don't worry," Jack reassured him. "Everything's okay. Just rest, and get better. Please. For me."

Ianto settled back into the pillows, wriggling sideways to make space on the bed. "Stay with me?"

"I was only waiting for you to ask."

-T-

_Ianto raised his eyes to the broken, clouded heavens—_

I'm sorry, Jack.

—_and stepped off._

Jack's eyes flew open as he yelled for air, lurching upright and rolling off the bed. "Ianto," he breathed, without realising he'd said a word.

He staggered through to the main cabin. It was devoid of anybody, the room eerily still save for the hum of the TARDIS.

Jack pushed open the police-box door to check inside. The golden interior welcomed him with a warm pulse, but there was still no sign of anybody.

His comm. unit was dead, too. And nobody was answering their mobiles.

With a sigh, Jack sat down by the table, idly tapping the fingers of one hand on the wood. He propped his chin on the other and stared morosely out of the porthole, at the stormy sky above.

A couple of minutes later, Jack got bored of waiting and tried their mobiles again, impatiently growling under his breath as the network took a little too long to connect.

-T-

Martha was bent over, hands on knees and gasping as she watched the helicopter lift the trio from the water. Beside her, Owen was conversing with the medic on board.

Her mobile buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Martha?"

"Jack!"

Gwen looked around at her exclamation. "Is— is that Jack?" she asked incredulously.

Martha nodded at her, putting her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. "Are you okay?" she demanded down the line.

"Yeah, I'm fine – where are you lot?"

"Uh…" Martha threw a frantic look at Gwen, who shrugged, pulling a face. "There's been an accident."

"What sort of accident?"

"I…I'm sorry, Jack. Ianto— well, he fell off a cliff." Martha tensed, waiting for the explosion.

"Sorry?" Jack's voice was low and deadly. "My hearing must be faulty – I could have _sworn_ you just said that Ianto _fell off a cliff_."

Martha swallowed. "No, you heard me right. The 'copter's taking him to hospital at the moment."

There was a deafening silence down the other end of the line. Then: "What was he doing by a cliff, anyway?"

"I…I gotta go, Jack – Owen and Gwen will pick you up." Martha quickly flipped her phone shut and stuffed it in her jeans pocket. She grimaced at Gwen. "Jack's pretty pissed off."

"I'm not surprised," Gwen commented, pushing her heavy fringe back from her face. "Owen and I'll take Jack to the hospital, did you say?"

Martha grinned wickedly. "Have fun."

-T-

The doors of the hospital ward burst open.

"Where is he? Where's Ianto?" Jack demanded, striding over to the front desk, his coat flapping around his heels.

The red-haired receptionist looked up calmly. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I need to see him."

The receptionist, whose name-badge said 'Tracy', raised an elegant eyebrow. "Who, sir?"

"Ianto Jones." Jack fidgeted impatiently as Tracy tapped carefully at her computer. "Well?"

"Please bear with me for a moment …" _Tap, tap._ "Can I take your name, please?"

"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack wrapped his arms around his torso, barely restraining himself from hopping from foot to foot.

"I'm sorry, Captain Harkness, but only close family are allowed in to visit Mr Jones at the moment. Maybe you should come back tomorrow…?"

Jack gritted his teeth. "I'm his boyfriend," he blurted out.

Tracy's eyes widened and she disdainfully looked him up and down. "I'm sorry, Mr Harkness, but that doesn't qualify as 'close family'."

Jack stared at her in shock. "What?"

"You'll have to come back another time. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to attend to." Tracy, very pointedly, turned her back on him and started typing at her computer.

Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Look, I haven't got the time for this. I'm Torchwood."

She raised an eyebrow, not taking her eyes from the computer-screen, and said coolly, "I'm afraid that I've never heard of 'Torchwood'. Now, please leave me in peace to do my job."

Jack scowled darkly at her back. "Fine," he muttered. He sat down in one of the flimsy plastic chairs lined up against the opposite wall. There was a poster tacked onto the wall about anti-smoking, the bottom left-hand corner ripped and crumpled.

He was the only person in the waiting room – or at least, he _was _the only person in the waiting room until the doors opened again and Gwen and Owen hurried through.

"Jack? Are you okay?" Gwen hurried to crouch next to him, putting her hand on his knee and looking up into his face with concerned brown eyes.

"Where's Ianto?" Owen asked.

Jack stared glumly at the ceiling. "They won't let me in."

"Bollocks to that," Owen said, striding up to Tracy. "Here – we're Torchwood, and I'm Dr Owen Harper. Ianto Jones is under my care."

"I'm afraid that only close family—"

"Look, I need to see him, 'kay? Just let us through." Owen tossed her a carelessly grim smile as he walked straight through the door behind her. "You two coming or not?"

Jack seemed to shake himself and jolt out of his glum stupor. He leapt to his feet, brushing off Gwen, and strode after Owen.

-T-

The Doctor wriggled free of the nurses' grip yet again. "I'm fine!" he protested. "Honestly – a hot shower and I'll be right as rain."

"We still need to check you over, sir," one of them said, a motherly brunette with gentle hazel eyes.

"I'm fine – I'm a doctor myself, y'know!"

"Just procedure, sir, that's all," another said, with the long-suffering air of one who had been through the same process many times before. "It won't take a moment."

The Doctor shook his head vigorously. "Nu-uh.  
Really—"

He was saved by Jack and Owen hurrying around the corner and nearly walking straight into them.

"Jack!" He said, delighted. "You're up!"

"Where's Ianto?" Jack asked, getting straight to the point.

"Not sure – I got dragged off by this lot. Sorry. Didn't you ask at reception?"

Jack ignored him and pushed straight past, opening the nearest door and checking the room inside.

Owen pushed open the next one and scanned the smaller room, immediately spotting Ianto in the bed under the window. "Jack – in here."

Jack fair flew into the room, striding over to Ianto's side and taking his hand. "What's wrong with him?"

Owen was flipping through the notes on the clipboard lying discarded on the bedside table. "Says here that he's sustained a nasty gash to the head, resulting in unconsciousness and possible concussion, as well as an arm broken in two separate places. He's had his head and arm x-rayed, as well as his ribs – to check for possible damage in other places." Owen squinted at the clipboard, deciding that he no longer agreed with the idea that a doctor's handwriting should be illegible. "I _think_ that it says that they're going to set his arm in about half-an-hour or so. But that could also be two hours. Or a day – I can't really read it…"

"But will he be okay?" Jack's blue eyes didn't leave Ianto's pale face.

"Should be – he's stable, at any rate. There doesn't appear to be anything life-threatening, and the brain scans didn't show up stuff we should be worried about." Owen shrugged. "I couldn't say for certain myself until I've performed a full physical on him."

Jack grabbed a chair and dragged it over to Ianto's bedside. "Can— can you give me some time with him?"

Owen narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Are you sure you're okay, too?"

Jack waved him off. "I'm fine. You go and discuss…doctor-y things with the nurses."

Owen pulled a face. "No fun anymore."

"Please."

Owen sighed. "Fine. Call me if anything – and I mean, _anything_ – happens, 'kay?"

"Yes, yes." Jack paid Owen no attention as the medic quietly exited the room. He was holding Ianto's hand gently, as if he was scared that his lover might break if he held him too hard.

Jack stroked the back of Ianto's hand with his thumb, feeling the timid flicker of life under the skin. He kissed the palm, willing the frail pulse to a stronger rhythm. When Jack looked back up at Ianto's face, he could have sworn that Ianto's wan features briefly slipped into a contented smile.

-T-

Martha and Toshiko were both sitting with the Doctor as he tried fruitlessly to persuade the nurse into letting him go.

"Look – I've got work to attend to! I can't stay here—"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Smith, but we can't allow you—"

"Martha! Tell them that I can go—"

"I can't do that, Doctor—"

"It's just a few tests, and then you can go. It's nothing to worry about."

"It's not that I'm _worried_, but—"

"Well then, this won't take a moment." The nurse picked up a needle from the tray and brandished it like a weapon. "Now, just hold still—"

Martha suddenly leapt to her feet. "Actually, I think it would be better if I did the check, sister."

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you a professionally trained medic, too?"

Martha sighed and fished in her jacket pocket for her ID. She presented it to the nurse. "Here. Dr Martha Jones, UNIT medical officer."

The nurse smiled politely, handing Martha the needle. "Of course, then, Dr Jones – I'll leave you to it."

Martha breathed a sigh of relief once the doors had closed behind her. "That was a close one."

"Couldn't you have tried that earlier?" the Doctor complained. "Then we wouldn't have had to go through all of that."

"I didn't know that they'd recognise UNIT – they didn't recognise Torchwood," Martha explained wearily, placing the needle back on the tray. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go and check on Ianto. Where's Donna?"

"Donna's with Gwen, talking to Mrs Applegate. I'll come to see Ianto too." The Doctor stood up and grinned at her. "Then—"

He was interrupted by a loud bleat from Toshiko's PDA, which Tosh nearly dropped at the unexpected noise.

"What was that?" Martha asked.

Toshiko shook her head. "I don't know – but somebody's tried hacking into our comms. I'm tracing the source now."

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver, and was quickly adjusting the settings. "Lemme have a look at it," he said, holding out a hand and wiggling his fingers encouragingly.

The petite Japanese woman handed it over, though not without a hesitant frown. "What are you going to do?"

"Just a few quick modifications," the Doctor replied absentmindedly, already fiddling around with the screen. The PDA emitted another bleep and the screen changed to show an intricate pattern of circles and hexagons. "There we go!"

Toshiko grabbed it off him in panic. "What have you done?" she gasped, staring at it.

The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly and slipped the sonic screwdriver back inside his jacket. "I temporarily re-routed it through to the TARDIS, so that we can get access to all of her controls. The TARDIS is far more powerful than anything else you could get hold of."

Tosh flicked through some screens, the frantic look in her eyes fading to adsorption. "Some of this stuff I've never even _heard_ of."

The Doctor grinned and tipped his head to the door. "Coming, Martha?" he asked.

Martha just shook her head, a small smile curving her lips. She paused at the door. "We'll be back in a bit, Tosh," she said. "You okay for a while?"

Toshiko nodded, still fixated by her "upgraded" PDA. "I'll be fine – just working on tracking the— aha!"

"What?" Martha tried to read the screen upside down. "What have you found?"

Tosh's eyes widened as the information scrolled across. "Those aliens are up to their antics again," she said grimly.

Martha raised an eyebrow. "What aliens?"

"Didn't we tell you?" Toshiko frowned when Martha shook her head. "The aliens we were here after in the first place. The ones that ki— hurt Ianto."

"And nobody thought to tell me about this?" Martha demanded. "Or the Doctor?"

"We have been rather busy," Toshiko pointed out mildly. "I thought that somebody had already told you, anyway."

"The Doctor will want to know about this," Martha said. "He might know something."

"I hope so," Tosh agreed. "Because we're at a complete loss."

-T-

Gwen had bought a coffee from the vending machine downstairs and was sipping at it with an expression of revulsion on her face. There really was no going back after tasting Ianto's coffee.

Julia Applegate was sitting on the chair across from her, her tightly curled grey hair slowly drying off and springing up back into position. She was happily chattering away with Donna, a polystyrene cup of tea in her hands.

"…we took a trip to Venice in January – beautiful city, really lovely – and George bought me a pretty glass vase which they made _specially_ in the factories there—"

"Was it expensive?" Donna asked curiously. She had taken off her brown jacket and slung it over the back of her chair.

"Well, it depends what you mean by expensive, dear, but it certainly set us back a couple of hundred!" Julia laughed. "I told him that he shouldn't have, but he said that I deserved something nice after such a year."

"Do you still have it?"

Julia shook her head. "No – it smashed a couple of weeks after we came back. A shame, really – I would have liked to show you it."

Donna made a sympathetic noise. "So do you have any children?"

Julia stiffened, and a flash of pain crossed her face. "My daughter, Clara, died six months ago," she said sadly. "She was only eighteen."

Donna was silent for a moment. She reached out and touched Julia's hand, looking regretful. "I'm sorry," she said. "You were obviously close."

Julia smiled. "We were. She was a bit of a surprise baby, y'know? I didn't expect to have any children after thirty-five, and then suddenly we had Clara!" She paused for a minute, lost in memories. "She used to tell us that she was talking to mermaids," she admitted. "Part of being an only child, I guess. But when she turned twelve and she was still talking about it…" Julia shook her head. "It made us worry. When your only child starts becoming nonsensical, it isn't good for the nerves."

"My mum's brother was schizophrenic," Gwen said, interrupting. "I know that my mum used to stress about him a lot."

Julia nodded. "The Doctor's didn't know what was wrong. They were just as clueless as everybody else."

"You said that she died of leukaemia?" Gwen probed gently, her police instincts taking over, propelled by her innate curiosity.

Julia looked down, tears swelling in her eyes. "That's right." She bit her lip, clearly fighting the urge to cry, to no avail. She buried her face in her hands.

Donna patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I'm sorry," she repeated. She glanced at Gwen uncertainly. "Have you heard from Jack about Ianto?" she asked.

Gwen checked her mobile. "No, not yet. He's probably forgotten."

Donna smiled. "He's had a stressful day. I'm going to the loo – be back in two ticks." She stood up and headed out the door, her heels clacking on the laminate floor.

Gwen pulled a packet of tissues from her pocket and handed one to Julia, absorbed in thought. What could Clara have possibly meant by mermaids? The time she had spent at Torchwood had already taught her never to dismiss such happenings or rumours – and this was something she doubted was a mental disorder.

A thought struck her like a lightning bolt out of the blue. She grabbed her mobile frantically and dialled Jack's number.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ring, ring. Ring, ring._ "Hello, this is Jack Harkness' mobile. If you're hearing this, then my mobile must be off at the moment, but if you leave a message I might get back to you." _Ianto's voice in the background, calling for Jack. A laugh from Jack, and the tone bleeped.

Gwen growled under her breath and cancelled the call, instead scrolling down to Toshiko's name and trying her mobile.

"Gwen?" Tosh sounded slightly irritated, though she hid it well. "What is it?"

Gwen hesitated. "I think that I've discovered something about the aliens," she said.

"Yes?"

"Mrs Applegate was saying about her daughter, Clara, who was talking to mermaids…"

Toshiko was silent for a moment after Gwen finished her story, mulling it over in her mind.

"Tosh?" Gwen sounded anxious.

"I'm just thinking," Tosh said slowly, "that it might be better to tell them this together, when Ianto's awake."

"That could be hours," Gwen argued.

Toshiko sighed mentally, and switched the phone over to her other ear so that she could grip her PDA with her other hand and check the scans. "There's nothing any of us can do until Ianto's awake," she pointed out.

"Jack still ought to know," Gwen replied, stubborn as ever. "He wouldn't like us keeping it from him."

"With Ianto still out, then I think that Jack might instead go on a furious rampage," Toshiko said. "He's pretty upset – and we haven't even told him that Ianto was trying to kill himself."

"What does he think happened, then?"

Tosh shrugged, even though she knew that Gwen couldn't see her. "He thinks that Ianto was just taking a walk with the Doctor, then slipped and fell. The Doctor then jumped in after him to try and rescue him, but only ended up needing rescuing himself."

"Are you _going_ to tell him?" Gwen said disapprovingly. "I know how angry I'd be if somebody lied to me about how Rhys got hurt."

"Of course!" Tosh said sharply. "We wouldn't keep it from him when there's no reason not to tell him. At the moment, if we told him, it might break him."

"He's Jack. He doesn't break."

Toshiko could have throttled Gwen. "He's only human, and he's been through a lot recently. Of course he can break."

Gwen was quiet. "I still think he should know the truth, about the mermaids at least," she said, ending the call before Tosh could say anything.

Toshiko glared at the droning phone for a moment, before closing it and turning back to her PDA. There wasn't anything she could do to stop her colleague— no, her _ex_-colleague – it hurt to think of Gwen like that – and there was a small, traitorous part of her that privately agreed with Gwen.

-T-

Gwen pushed open the door to Ianto's room and looked in, biting her lip. "Jack?" she whispered.

Jack looked up, a dark expression clouding his face when he realised who she was. "I thought I told you to go."

"I had to try and help." Gwen fiddled with the zipper on her jacket, desperately hoping that Jack would at least listen to her.

"Haven't you done enough?" Jack said harshly.

_Oh God, he's going to be unreasonable. _"I have to try and put things right, Jack. Give me that, at least."

Jack clenched his jaw and met her gaze with icy eyes. "Time and time again I've let you get away with things—"

"Like what?" Gwen asked before she could stop herself, stung by Jack's accusation. "What have I ever done?"

"You disobeyed the rules by letting Rhys into Torchwood, and then refusing to retcon him. Why you _want_ to expose somebody you love to what we deal with, I don't know." Jack closed his eyes briefly and took a deep, steadying breath. "If I could, I would send all of you away to have normal lives. I wouldn't wish Torchwood on anybody who hasn't _got_ to know."

"Rhys had to know. I was sick and tired of lying! Every night, I had to make up some bloody awful excuse as to why I was late, and every night our relationship died a little more." Gwen spread her arms, imploring Jack to understand.

Jack stared at her for a moment. He let go of Ianto's hand, gently tucking it back against the Welshman's side, so that he could stand up and face her.

"You yourself told me not to let it drift! It was drifting, and there wasn't anything else I could do." She caught Jack's eyes with her own and held them. "Could _you_ stand by and just let somebody you love walk away and leave you when there's something you can do to keep them with you?"

Jack ripped his eyes away and stared at Ianto's face. "Maybe, maybe not," he said, his voice tight. "You still disobeyed my orders."

Gwen growled under her breath, feeling like yelling. She clenched her fists. "Look, just listen to what I found out – it might be important. Even if I can't be a member of the team, I'm still a police officer and I'm only trying to do my job. Ianto is my friend, I care about him too, so just consider me an assisting officer. Just _listen_ to me."

Jack crossed his arms and nodded at her. "Go on, then, PC Cooper."

Gwen had to bite her tongue to control her temper. "I was talking to Mrs Applegate earlier, and she was talking about her daughter, Clara."

Jack raised a disdainful eyebrow. "Just how is this relevant?"

"I'm _getting_ there – anyway, Clara died of leukaemia six months ago—"

Gwen was interrupted by an alarm going off, loud and clamouring. A flood of nurses and doctors came rushing in, a couple of attendants wheeling a trolley.

"Out the way, please!"

"Quickly – we need to get him to the theatre—"

"Looks like internal bleeding – why didn't the scans pick up on that?"

One nurse started fussing as they started to move him onto the trolley. "Careful of his arm – we haven't set it yet—"

"Forget the arm – the bleeding's more important," the doctor snapped as they rushed out the door with the trolley. "Deal with the relatives!"

The nurse, Jack and Gwen gaped after them.

"What just happened?" Gwen asked, reeling.

The nurse turned a pitying look on her. "You family?"

"No, no – just a friend." Gwen tried to smile. "We were on holiday together when Ianto…fell."

Jack had a dazed expression on his face. "I'm his boyfriend," he managed. "Where are they taking him?"

The nurse patted his arm. "I'm sorry. They've taken him into surgery – it looks like internal bleeding. His heart stuttered."

"Is he going to be okay?" Jack's voice was small, his eyes large in his ashen face.

"We'll just have to hope and pray," the nurse said softly, her round face glowing with sympathy. "The Lord knows best."

"I don't believe in God," Jack said, still numb.

"Then I hope you have something strong that you can believe in." The nurse took his arm and guided him to the chair. "You may want to sit down – it'll be a long wait."

-T-

Jack leapt to his feet as soon as the attendants wheeled Ianto through the door.

"Is he okay?" he demanded, rushing over and peering at Ianto's pale face.

"The doctors say that he's sedated at the moment, but give him a while and he may well start to wake up," one of the attendants said. He was a gangly youth with acne and spiky blond hair. "They managed to stabilise him, so he should be fine – they also set his arm. They're actually running some tests at the moment, on Mr Jones' blood – they noticed something unusual that they needed to check."

The other attendant, a short Indian-looking woman in her mid-twenties, smiled at Jack. "He's fine," she reassured him, "but give us a call if anything happens."

Jack nodded, carefully lifting Ianto's head and helping them to lay him down on the bed and tuck the sheets around him. "Will do."

The female attendant gave him one last smile as she followed her companion out the door. He managed a feeble approximation of his usual blinding grin, letting it slide off his face as soon as the door had closed behind them. He flopped into the chair, his knees suddenly feeling weak and shaky. Ianto's breathing remained slow and measured, and Jack felt a surge of relief wash up over him. He bit his lip, tears springing to his eyes.

He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and sniffed, trying to get his emotions under control. He picked up a magazine from the bedside table and flipped to a random page, needing to do something before the tears became too hard to keep under wraps.

The clock in the corner ticked, strangely in sync with Ianto's breathing. Jack hadn't noticed the clock before, but now he heard it counting away the seconds, he couldn't help but listen to what it was saying.

Clocks reminded him of Ianto. You didn't always notice them, but they were always there, reliable and reserved. Like clocks, Ianto was timeless – Jack was convinced that Ianto would manage to fit right in wherever he went, _whenever_ he went. Ianto was that sort of person.

There was a strained whimper from the bed; Jack threw down the magazine and leapt to his feet.

Ianto was pale as death itself, as pale as Owen, and he looked dreadful. There was a mottled bruise across his right cheekbone, and his eyes dopey. He smiled up at Jack, and Jack struggled to keep back the tears.

"What possessed you to stand right on the edge of a cliff, you idiot?" Jack asked, trying for a chuckle despite the tightness in his throat. "That's strictly for me to do."

Ianto frowned. "I—"

Jack stopped him with a forefinger gently touched to his lips. "Ssh. Don't try to talk now. We'll discuss everything once you're feeling better."

"But aren't you—"

"Please just rest, Ianto," Jack pleaded, the worry he felt spilling over into his voice and face. "You had a nasty head wound. If the Doctor and Julia hadn't found you when they did—" He broke off, his voice catching in his throat. He grimaced. "Anyway, I need you up and running as soon as possible. You were out for a good forty-eight hours."

Ianto's eyes widened. "Two days? What—?"

Don't worry," Jack said, anxious that his heart rate didn't get up after the surgery. "Everything's okay. Just rest, and get better. Please. For me."

Ianto settled back into the pillows, wriggling sideways to make space on the bed. "Stay with me?" His eyes were beseeching, his entire frame looking fragile against the white sheets.

Jack smiled at him. "I was only waiting for you to ask."

Jack bent down to unlace his shoes, before settling down next to Ianto and draping an arm over him. "That okay?"

"Mmhuh…" Ianto sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again.

The door opened and Owen poked his head in. "Gwen wants to speak to you, Jack," he said apologetically, holding out his mobile phone. "She wouldn't take no for an answer."

Jack growled under his breath. "Tell her to try again later."

Owen repeated this to Gwen down the other end of the line, and winced as Gwen unleashed her temper on him. He held the phone away from his ear. "She says that you need to stop being such a bloody idiot as what she has to say is important."

Jack sighed. "I said _no_."

Ianto rolled over to lie on his back and prodded Jack in the side with his good arm. "Go on," he encouraged, through a wide yawn. "She's only trying to help."

Jack scowled. "Fine. Gimme the phone."

Owen handed Jack the mobile and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Gwen." Jack was too tired to dole out the cold act. He just wanted to get this phone call over and done with, so that he could just hold Ianto and sleep.

"Finally! What the hell persuaded you to talk to me?"

"That doesn't matter. Just make it quick – I wanna go to sleep." Jack rubbed his eyes, his vision blurry from exhaustion.

"I think that I've found something else about our aliens," Gwen said, speaking at top speed. "Apparently Mrs Applegate's daughter, Clara, was talking to _mermaids_ before she died."

"So?" Jack fought a yawn.

Ianto shifted so that his head was resting on Jack's chest.

Jack smiled and carded his fingers through Ianto's hair, only vaguely realising that Gwen was saying something. "Hmm?" he asked. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

Gwen sighed. "I _said_, Clara was talking to mermaids before she died – the doctors just thought that she was crazy."

"But you think that it's something else— hang on a sec, I'm just going to put you on speaker." Jack pressed the speaker button and placed it on the bedside table. He wrapped an arm around Ianto, hugging him tightly.

"Is Ianto awake, then?" Gwen asked, sounding hugely relieved.

"I'm here," Ianto replied. "Just tired."

"How are you feeling, sweetie? Do you need anything? I can get you a tea from the—"

"I'm fine, Gwen," Ianto cut her off. "You were saying about Clara?"

Gwen paused for a moment. "There isn't much to say, really. She died a few months back, from leukaemia. She had apparently been talking to what she called mermaids for years beforehand – the doctors were completely at a loss as to why she thought that, so they treated it like a mental illness."

"So…what are you suggesting, exactly?" Ianto asked, frowning. He wriggled to sit up properly, grimacing as he banged his arm. Jack steadied him, sitting up as well. Ianto squeezed his hand by as a thankyou. "D'you think that the 'mermaids' were actually the aliens?"

"I don't know," Gwen said, "but I suspect it. What _I'm_ wondering is why they made contact with her in the first place, and why it's taken so long for them to get hold of us."

"It was definitely leukaemia that killed Clara?" Jack asked, far more awake and alert than he had been a minute ago.

"That's what Julia said," Gwen replied. "Why?"

Jack tugged on his lower lip with his teeth, not answering. His eyes were vacant as he stared at the poster on the opposite wall, one advertising Kleenex.

"Jack?" Gwen pressed.

Ianto poked him in the side. "Jack, Gwen just asked you a question."

Jack turned his vacant blue gaze on Ianto, seemingly not recognizing the Welshman for a moment before he shook himself and smiled at Ianto. Ianto nodded at the phone.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Gwen asked. "What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about," Jack reassured her. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

Jack took a deep breath. "I was wondering if that was the way they killed," he said, struggling to get the words out.

Ianto frowned. "But—"

"The symptoms all fit," Jack said softly. "The nausea, the tiredness, the headaches… I thought that you were looking a little paler than usual recently."

"Are you saying that I…died…of leukaemia?"

Jack swallowed. "I think so, yeah."

"But doesn't it take a long time for leukaemia to develop?" Gwen questioned. Her voice sounded almost prickly through the line.

"In normal cases, yes," Jack said. "They most likely accelerated it, or something."

Ianto was silent, and when Jack looked at him he saw that shutters had closed across his face. He felt a sharp tug in his gut that Ianto was still shutting himself off, after everything that they'd been through together – he wanted to reach out and envelop his lover in a hug, to protect him from all of this. But he couldn't. He had to be the Captain.

"I'm not an expert on cancer," he continued, "so I think it would be better to ask Owen, but I'd put my money on there being a connection between Ianto and Clara."

"I need to talk to Tosh now, let her know that you're awake, Ianto," Gwen said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Jack lied. "See you."

He reached over to pick up the phone and snapped it shut, unable to look at Ianto.

"Jack?" Ianto's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I…I'm scared, Jack," Ianto admitted, biting his lip and plucking at the sheets, not meeting Jack's eyes.

This time, Jack didn't stop himself from drawing him into an embrace, which Ianto sagged into.

Careful not to knock Ianto's broken arm, Jack manoeuvred them into a more comfortable position, with their heads close together. He stroked Ianto's back and allowed himself a brief moment to worry and feel the full extent of his fear.

They couldn't take Ianto away from him again – he didn't think that he'd cope this time.

Ianto sighed, his breath ghosting over the shell of Jack's ear. Jack smiled sadly and wrapped his arms tighter around his younger lover, burying his nose in Ianto's shoulder and simply savouring the moment.

The clock ticked away in the corner.

-T-

Owen was sitting on a red plastic chair, his legs swinging aimlessly as he stared at the pot-plant in the corner. The plant seemed to be half-dead, its leaves drooped and shrivelling. The flower heads had lost their petals - save for one which, small and wrinkled, clung on whilst the others lay decomposing in the dust.

Being a keen botanist, Owen's fingers itched to fill a cup with water from the dispenser, to tip it over the dry soil and away all those dead browned petals. But he kept his ass firmly rooted to the chair, and instead fixed his attention on the peeling paint-work.

The door opened, and Toshiko hurried through, looking upset.

"Owen, have you seen Jack?" she asked.

The medic nodded at the ceiling. "He's upstairs, in Ianto's room. Why?"

Toshiko shook her head, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "They sent another message," she admitted. "Has Gwen filled you in?"

"Filled me in on what?"

"Jack thinks that Ianto died of leukaemia," Toshiko said, talking at top speed. "Julia's daughter died of leukaemia just after she was talking to mermaids."

"And by _mermaids_ you mean _aliens_," Owen realised. "Jack thinks there's a connection."

She nodded, pulling out her PDA from her pocket and tapping away at it. "Here you go," she handed it to him, "this should have everything. I need to go and talk to Jack."

"Wait a bit – they're sleeping." Owen stood up. "Try the Doctor first."

"The Doctor?" she seemed taken aback.

Owen shrugged. "He's the expert in all this, isn't he?"

"I guess…" Toshiko replied cautiously. "Where is he?"

"He and Martha were going to visit Ianto, but he was sleeping so they went to talk with the doctors." Owen ignored the flicker of annoyance that he, a doctor himself, was being stuck down here like a naughty toddler whilst Martha and the Doctor got to look at the test results for themselves. "They said that they wanted me here in case something came up."

Tosh smiled sympathetically at him. "You could come with me, if you want," she offered shyly. "I don't know much about cancer."

Owen smiled, although without humour. "_Martha_ does," he said, surprising himself with his bitter tone.

Toshiko looked upset for a fleeting moment. "If you don't want to come—"

"I'll come," Owen said quickly. He nodded towards the door. "C'mon, then."

-T-

Martha frowned at the readout the doctor had presented her with. "Are you sure?"

The doctor nodded, her face grim. "No doubt about it. I've run this scan numerous times – they all come up with the same answer."

"Is there any way the machines could be faulty?"

"It's unlikely – they were serviced last week," the doctor said, her voice crisp as a freshly-bitten apple. She had her hands in the spacious pockets of her white medical coat. "We can run some further tests, though we'll need some more blood-samples," she dropped her voice, "I'm sorry, Dr Jones, but I don't think he'll make it. The cancer's so far along that he strictly ought to be dead already."

"That's not going to happen on my watch," Martha said stiffly.

The doctor pressed her lips together in a thin line. "I look forward to seeing that," she replied. "But are you sure that Mr Jones hasn't show any symptoms?"

"Not that I know of," Martha said slowly, shaking her head. "But I haven't seen him for quite a long time."

"This says that he should have first contracted the leukaemia about two years ago, maybe more." The doctor's eyes were suspicious. "We really need to know if he has – it could make all the difference to the way we set about treating him."

"Why don't we just handle it how we'd normally deal with any cancer patient?" Martha suggested. "I need to go and talk to some colleagues."

"Don't leave it too long," the doctor warned. "This is a delicate situation."

"I'm well aware of the 'situation'." Martha's tone was deadly, her posture stiff. "Please excuse me, I need to go and confer with Dr Smith and Dr Harper."

Martha turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, almost bumping into Owen and Toshiko.

"What do the tests say?" Toshiko asked nervously. "Because Jack's got this theory—"

"Ianto's got leukaemia," Martha said abruptly.

She didn't quite get the reaction she had expected. Tosh simply nodded and said, "That's what we thought – we were just coming to tell you."

"Owen?" Martha asked, surprised. "Did you know?"

"Tosh just told me, yes," Owen replied. "I'd like to get a look at the results myself, check for other abnormalities, see how far it's along, that sort of thing—"

"Ianto ought to be dead by now, according to this," Martha waved the sheet of paper at them, "but, as you can see, he's still very much alive."

"That's because he _has_ died of leukaemia – he just came back again," Toshiko explained. "Jack thinks that might be how the aliens kill."

Martha frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Somehow, they cause leukaemia to start in the body of a person they choose, then they accelerate it until they die," the technician said. "We just don't know _how_ they cause the leukaemia to start in the first place."

Martha opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. "I think we need to go and tell the Doctor," she said finally.

-T-

Jack was starting to drift off, arms wrapped protectively around Ianto's sleeping form, when the door banged open and the Doctor marched in.

Jack glared at the timelord. "What?" he asked in a heated whisper. "He's sleeping."

The Doctor's eyes were dark, the echoes of loss and sorrow clinging to his angular face. "Jack—" he began, then broke off to grab a nearby chair, dragging it to the bedside. "It might be better if you wake him up," he said, his voice lowered.

Jack hesitated. "This better be good," he warned. "He needs to sleep."

"It's important," the Doctor promised.

Jack threw him a doubtful look, but shook Ianto's good shoulder gently. "Ianto. Ianto…"

The Welshman woke slowly and groggily, his eyes fluttering open. He peered up at Jack through his lashes, his eyes a sleepy blue. "Hmm?"

Jack held back a soppy grin at the look of drowsy bewilderment on his lover's face, which he couldn't help but find adorable. On any other occasion, he would have told Ianto so, but even he felt a bit uncomfortable with showing such affection in front of the timelord. Flirting, yes – affection, not so much. "Morning, sunshine," he instead said, helping Ianto to sit up.

Ianto's eyes widened momentarily when he saw the Doctor sitting in the chair by the bed, before the polite mask slammed into position once more. "Good morning, sir."

"Hey, don't I get a good morning?" Jack teased.

"Morning, Jack," Ianto said. The hint of his warm smile set a ball of heat glowing in Jack's chest, one which sent pleasant tingles down his spine and dancing across his skin. Ianto yawned involuntarily, his fingers uncurling from Jack's brace to cover his mouth. "Is there any particular reason for waking me up?"

"Other than to hear those gorgeous welsh vowels?" Jack grinned. He would have continued, but the Doctor leapt in.

"I actually need to talk to you both, Ianto," he said solemnly. "It's a serious matter."

Ianto frowned for a moment. Then the creases in his forehead smoothed out, his expression clearing with understanding. "The leukaemia?" he asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Martha, Toshiko and Ewen told me."

"Owen," Ianto said absently, "not Ewen."

The Doctor waved a hand in the air. "Whatever – they showed me the test results." His gaze was serious. "Ianto Jones, according to those results – which are about accurate ninety-nine percent of the time – according to those results, you should be dead."

Jack stared at the Doctor. There was a glimpse of the little lost boy he had once been behind the captain-façade. "What are you saying?"

The Doctor looked away, memories glinting like gold-dust in his old-but-young eyes. "I just thought that I ought to warn you."

"Warn us about what?" Jack unconsciously sought out Ianto's hand and squeezed it tight.

"Jack…maybe it's time to accept that we can't change what the Universe chooses. At least, this way, you'll have time to say goodbye." The Doctor made to stand up, but Ianto's next words stopped him in his tracks.

"How long have I got?"

The Doctor turned around, slowly. He forced himself to look at the young Welshman. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I really don't. It could be hours, days, weeks – months, even."

"So there might be time to find a cure?" Jack asked hopefully.

Ianto saw the glint in his eyes and tightened his grip on the captain's hand. "No, Jack," he said, his voice soft. "Don't. Please don't."

"But can't you see?" Jack's eyes were fairly alight, now. He looked at the Doctor. "We can stop it," he said excitedly, "it's only leukaemia. They've got a cure for it by the 30th century—"

"_No_, Jack." The Doctor sat down again, leaning forward to meet Jack's eyes. "We can't. Ianto belongs in the 21st century. He isn't meant to have a cure."

"He's right, Jack." Ianto offered up a small smile, trying to comfort Jack as best as he could. "Why should I get anything special? I'm not any more important that other people who die from it."

"You are," Jack insisted. "We can't fix everyone, but we _can _help you. You save the world every day – why shouldn't you get some reward?"

"I did get my reward," Ianto said quietly, his blue eyes glowing with a soft inner peace. "I got you."

-T-

"Right," Gwen said determinedly, "I think we need to get down to business."

"What do you mean?" Toshiko asked.

"I mean that we need to work on catching and dealing with these aliens," the Welshwoman replied, unusually practical. "We can't expect Jack to do so, not at the moment."

"So how do you want us to set about doing that?" Owen narrowed his eyes. "Because if you're suggesting we all go out there and start asking the locals about sightings of whales recently, you can go and find somebody else."

Gwen shook her head. "I don't mean that. I was thinking that we could run some scans, try and find a pattern. Cross-reference."

"Cross-referencing?" Toshiko slipped a hand into her pocket and drew out her upgraded PDA. "I can do that."

"What about me?" Owen demanded short-temperedly.

Gwen met his gaze. "Can you go through the medical records, try to narrow down how many people these aliens have killed? I'd like to know how long they've been here, and what they've been up to."

"Okay…" Owen said slowly, getting out his own PDA. "How will we know whether it was the aliens or just ordinary leukaemia?"

Gwen hesitated. She hadn't thought that far ahead. "I don't know," she admitted, "but we can cross that bridge when we come to it."

Owen nodded, a grudging respect entering his eyes. "That sounds as good a plan as any."

"What are you going to do?" Tosh asked her.

Gwen tipped her head towards the swing-doors, shoving her hands into the back-pockets of her jeans. "I'm going to go and talk to Julia, try and get more information about what happened."

"What more is there to know? Girl started chatting to aliens, aliens got pissed off, girl died. End of story." Owen grimaced. "Cheery tale, that."

"Thankyou for sharing your enlightened reasoning, Owen," Gwen replied, trying hard to rein in her temper, "but there's plenty more to it than that. For instance, Clara might have given her mother a description of the aliens – that could help us stop them."

"We know that they live in water," Toshiko said, "and they must be fairly technologically advanced to phone us from the bottom of the ocean."

"Not to mention giving people leukaemia," Owen added. "That's pretty impressive."

"See?" Gwen said. "There's never such a thing as too much information."

"Okay, then, let's get down to work," Owen said. "Meet you back here in an hour?"

"An hour," Gwen confirmed, already pushing open the doors.

-T-

_Blue Dancer _was lit up warmly, a comforting beacon of welcome in the dark evening.

Gwen paused, unsure of how welcome she would be, intruding like this without warning.

She would just use the excuse of wanting to tell Julia about how Ianto was doing, she decided. Then she would casually slip Clara into the conversation, somehow.

Gwen rapped on the side of the boat, wincing as her knuckles smarted.

For a moment, she thought that there was nobody at home, that they had just left the lights on by accident, but then Julia Applegate's head had popped out from the hatch.

"Sorry for calling by this late—"

"Nonsense, m'dear. Come on in." Julia stepped back, letting Gwen down into the boat. The main cabin was much smaller than the one on _Skookumchuck_, with a low, curved ceiling and portholes speckled with green algae. The woodwork was a lighter honey-colour that glowed in the warm light, bestowing on the cabin an air of cosy hominess. "We're just starting supper – do you want any?"

"Oh, no thanks," Gwen said quickly, blushing. "I was just wondering if I could talk to you."

"Of course." Julia smiled. "Anything in particular you want to talk about? How's Mr Jones?"

"Ianto's…okay." Gwen bit her lip. "He had to go into surgery the other day."

"Why's that?"

"Internal bleeding." Gwen sat down gingerly next to Julia's husband. "Hi – Gwen Cooper."

"George," he said in return, holding out a hand. "You're a journalist, right?"

Gwen froze. What? Then she remembered, and managed a tight smile. "Yeah. Nothing big, just a small holiday magazine."

"Which one?" George's hazel eyes were impossible to read.

Gwen frowned slightly at his interest. "It's really small – I doubt you'll have heard of it."

"What's it called?"

"Uh…" Gwen cast around, "'_Teithio_'."

"That's unusual," Julia said. "Welsh, is it? I've got a friend who lives in Swansea – she moved there a few years back. Haven't seen her for ages…"

Gwen nodded, happy to just tune out now that the attention was off her. Too late, she realised that Julia had asked her a question. "Hmm? Sorry – wool gathering."

Julia chuckled. "I was wondering if you have any children back home."

Gwen blushed, shaking her head furiously. "Oh, no – my husband wants a couple, but I'm not sure that I'm ready."

"It's quite a commitment," Julia said sagely, doling out mashed potato onto plates. "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

"I'm fine, thanks. So, did you want children?"

The older woman smiled sadly. "When I was your age, I didn't, no." She sat down opposite them. "Then suddenly I thought I was too old, that I had missed my chance. When that happened, all I wanted was a child."

"She wouldn't shut up about it," George put in, shovelling a forkful of beans into his mouth. "Bugged me about it, day and night."

"Then we got Clara." Julia smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Like I said, she was rather the surprise baby."

"I'm sorry." Gwen nearly reached across the table to touch her hand, but restrained herself at the last moment. She was practically a stranger to them. "It must be awful, losing a child."

Julia froze. "It is," she said in a low voice. Her eyes were dark, her face stony.

"Do we have to talk about this?" her husband asked defensively, frowning at Gwen. She was reminded vividly of her maths teacher at school, who always went around with a disapproving scowl on his face.

"No, no, of course not," Gwen said, holding up her hands in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"I don't mean to be rude," Julia said apologetically, "it's just a sore matter still."

"I'm sorry," Gwen repeated. "I was just curious." She bit her lip, unsure of how much to tell them. "It's… Ianto's just been diagnosed with leukaemia."

Julia seemed to sag in her seat, all the pretence at joviality dissipating. "You want to know what to expect," she said.

"I guess so. It's more for Jack than me, though." Gwen twisted the ring around her finger, uncomfortable in her position.

Julia frowned. "Why would— oh. They're together, then?"

Relieved that she had picked up on it so fast, Gwen nodded. "I want him to be as prepared as possible if…" she trailed off, aware that she was treading on delicate ground here. "I just don't want him to hurt."

Julia reached across the table and grasped her hand. Her eyes were sympathetic. "I don't know how serious those two are, but I do know that it's going to hurt. There's no way it wouldn't. Losing anybody you care about hurts more than anything else."

Gwen swallowed, realising how difficult it must be for Jack, to live out all the ages whilst watching his loved ones die. "I know."

"I'll try to talk to him, if you want," Julia offered. She gave a weak smile. "It'll help if he has somebody to talk to about this, who understands."

"Thankyou," Gwen said. For once, it came straight from the heart. She cared about all her teammates, and seeing Jack so distraught and Ianto so _damaged _hurt her more than she liked to admit. "I really appreciate it."

Julia smiled. "No problem, my dear. Now, you'd better get back to those friends of yours before they start worrying."

Gwen checked her watch and swore softly under her breath when she saw that she had been longer than an hour. "Damn – I'm late already. Thanks for the talk, Mrs Applegate, and I hope to see you around soon."

"Take care," Julia replied.

Gwen flashed them another quick smile, before scampering up the steep steps into the cockpit.

She stopped for a moment, breathing in the cold air. She pulled up the zip on her jacket further, blowing out a long puff of air from her lungs and shivering slightly at the biting chill that nipped at her face.

Gwen swung herself back over the side onto the pontoon, which dipped slightly as she dropped onto it, and wished that she had brought a torch. The weak light from a streetlamp up on the road sent shuddering, dancing reflections across the black water.

A clump of seaweed was drifting closer and closer to the pontoon, the strands waving gently with the swell of the water. Gwen wrinkled her nose at it – no doubt it was full of icky creatures – and started off towards the exit ramp.

There was a sucking sound as a fish came to the surface of the water and slurped at the air with a round, pink mouth. Gwen gave it a cursory glance, busy trying to think of how to get Jack to talk to Julia.

She didn't see the tangle of seaweed change direction, going against the pull of the water, or the calculating yellow eye of the fish as it watched her go.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ianto was bored. No, scrap that – he was so bored that even listening to Gwen talking about her honeymoon (in detail) would be a welcome distraction.

The door opened, and Jack walked in, Tesco bag in hand. "Hey there," he said with a gentle grin. "How're you doing?"

"Bored." Ianto stifled a yawn. "What've you got there?"

"Food!" Jack announced. "Bread rolls, ham, apples—"

"Please don't tell me you brought grapes," Ianto groaned.

Jack raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the chair next to Ianto's bed and dumping the plastic carrier bag. "What's wrong with grapes?"

"Nothing, other than the fact that's all everybody seems to bring." Ianto considered for a moment. "Other than the Doctor."

"Why, what did he bring?" Jack seemed amused.

"Bananas."

"How did I guess?" Jack chuckled.

"That man has got a worrying obsession with bananas," Ianto told him seriously. "If it was anybody else, I'd suggest counselling."

Jack just laughed again. Ianto smiled to hear him laughing; there had been far too little of that recently.

"But, really, how are you?" Jack asked him soberly, once he had finished laughing.

Ianto looked away. "Fine." He fingered the blanket draped across his lap. "When can I leave?"

Jack's face tightened. "Not for a while yet," he replied. "In the meantime, can I tempt you with some of this delicious food?"

"Not hungry."

Jack shrugged and bit into an apple. "You sure? You haven't eaten today."

"I'm fine."

Jack paused in the middle of taking a bite, sticky juice dribbling down his chin. "Ianto…" he sighed.

Ianto looked away. "Really, Jack. I just hate being stuck here."

Jack put down the apple on the bedside table and wiped his chin. He opened his arms invitingly. "C'mere."

"Am I allowed…?"

"Sure. Just this once won't hurt you." Jack smiled as Ianto pushed back the covers and slipped from the hospital bed. He felt a slight pang as he noted how the gown hung from Ianto's slight frame, his wrists thin and the bags under his eyes bestowing on him a similarity to a panda.

Ianto settled onto his lap with a happy sigh, tucking his nose behind Jack's ear like he had taken to doing recently.

Jack tightened his arms around the younger Welshman, careful of his broken arm. He was unpleasantly surprised by the lightness of his lover. "Your sister called," he said.

Ianto tensed. "Oh?"

"She wants you to go back home and stay with her." Jack ran his fingers through Ianto's hair. It had been washed that morning and was still slightly damp, curls sticking to the back of his neck. "I said that I'd let you decide."

Ianto was quiet for a moment, before pulling back and looking Jack earnestly in the face. "What do you think?"

Jack blinked, taken aback. "It's your choice. She is your family – I won't be upset if you want to stay with her."

Ianto grinned. "Yes, you would be," he said, kissing Jack on the nose. "You'd sulk for days, because you don't like to even _think_ of the possibility that your care might be anything other than exactly what I need."

And expression of concern crossed Jack's face. "It is what you need, right?" he asked anxiously. "I'm not doing anything wrong—"

Ianto silenced him with a finger pressed gently to his lips. "You're doing fine," he reassured him. "Really. I couldn't ask for anything more."

Jack looked slightly relieved. "That's good. But what do you want to do about your sister?"

"Rhiannon will want to mother me," Ianto said with his customary eyeroll, "and she'll try to stuff me with food."

Jack grinned. "So that's a no?"

Ianto looked away. "I…I don't want to stay here."

Jack swallowed. "Okay, then. So what are you suggesting?"

"I want to go home, Jack," Ianto said, hating the plaintive tone in his voice. "If I'm going to die again, I want to at least do it in my own bed."

"Don't speak like that," Jack said, stroking Ianto's cheek gently. "We'll find something."

"Don't make any promises you can't keep," Ianto retorted, turning over Jack's hand with his good arm, and kissing the palm. "I don't mind. Honestly."

"I do."

Ianto bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Jack said softly, eyes sad. "But I'll have to see about going home. We need to finish this mission first, deal with these aliens."

Ianto sat up a bit straighter. "How's that going?" he asked, his boredom morphing into a burning curiosity for any new news.

Jack shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It's taking a lot longer than we expected, as the signals keep on switching between two different locations."

"Why don't you check both of them?"

"Whoah, I never thought of that," Jack joked. "The problem is that both the sites are only reachable with a submarine or a professional diver."

"Neither of which we have," Ianto said.

"Nope."

Ianto sighed, his breath tickling the back of Jack's neck. "So there's nothing we can do."

"Hey – with a dashing hero like me on the case, how can we fail?" Jack teased, trying vainly to lighten the mood.

Ianto snorted. "You keep on telling yourself that," he replied.

"Are you being rude about me?"

"Of course not – why would I do that?" Ianto widened his eyes innocently.

"Cheek!" Jack laughed, twisting his head awkwardly to kiss him. Ianto's good hand came up to cradle Jack's face, and he sighed into the kiss.

They sat there like that for a few more minutes, lazily exchanging kisses and simply enjoying the other. Then Jack's mobile rang, buzzing in his pocket.

Ianto raised an eyebrow, to which Jack replied with a smirk before digging it out and answering, "Yeah?"

Ianto recognised the face Jack now wore; it was the 'Captain' face, the one he wore when he had to get down to business. He slid off Jack's lap and crawled back under the covers of the hospital bed. Jack stood up too, and absent-mindedly tucked Ianto in and dropped a kiss on his forehead before heading out the door, still talking earnestly on his phone.

The room was strangely hollow and empty after Jack left. It always was, whenever the captain had to go, leaving Ianto alone in the small white room.

Gwen had brought in some flowers the other day, a large and colourful bunch of tulips that sat on the table by Ianto's bed. The colour was a welcome change from the monotonous, clinical white of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the pillows, the sheets…

Ianto sighed and flopped back onto the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, mentally counting away the seconds until the nurses came in with his next meal.

_His next meal._ For all he knew, it could well be his last.

And then, lying in the hospital bed which would may turn out to be his death bed, Ianto Jones realised that his life was about to end. And, this time, it would be for good.

-T-

"What do you mean, 'there's a massive shoal of fish in the marina'?" Jack demanded, getting up from where he was seated on the edge of Ianto's bed.

Martha rolled her eyes, closing the door behind her. "I mean exactly that. The marina is jam-packed full of fish."

"What sort of fish?" Ianto asked curiously, leaning forward in his bed.

"Fish fish." Martha shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not exactly a fish expert."

"What are the harbourmasters doing?" Jack pressed.

"They're trying to—" Martha was interrupted by a bleep from her mobile. She read the text, her eyebrows jumping up her forehead in surprise. "Owen says that the fish have started biting people."

"'Biting people'?" Ianto echoed. "That hardly sounds like normal fish behaviour to me."

"Unless they're piranhas," Jack said. "Are they piranhas?"

"Not that I know of," Martha said. "They look like normal, silvery brown fish."

Jack grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Okay, then," he said, "lets get moving."

"What about me?" Ianto's eyes were dark in his white face.

Jack blinked. "What do you mean? You're staying here."

"Can't I come with you?"

"Ianto—"

"Please, Jack. I haven't been outside for nine days now."

"No. What if something happened?" Jack bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm not going to risk it."

"Jack!"

"No, Ianto. Maybe tomorrow, if the nurses give you the all-clear."

"Jack, please," Ianto begged. "You don't know what it's like to be stuck in here twenty-four-seven."

"I said _no_," an edge of impatience crept into Jack's voice.

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Actually, I can – I'm your boss, in case you'd forgotten," Jack said angrily, his temper flaring.

"So I'm off-duty but I still have to do what you say?"

"_Yes._"

"How is that fair?"

Jack glared at him, eyes chips of ice. "It isn't. Life isn't fair. Don't you think I know that better than anyone else?"

"Oh, because you've gone through far more than any of the rest of us, despite the fact that I'm the one _dy_—"

"You have no idea what I've been through," Jack said through clenched teeth.

Ianto laughed, a hysterical note to it. "No, because you never tell me anything! It's all: Oh, you wouldn't understand, you're just the tea-boy—"

"When have I ever said you were just the tea-boy?" Jack demanded, taking a step forward. His fists were clenched, his jaw tight with anger.

"When d'you think?" Ianto asked sarcastically.

"We've talked about that—"

"And it doesn't seem to have made a difference!"

"It _has_ made a dif—"

"No, it hasn't!" Ianto snapped. "Even now, it's always: Ianto, get me this! Ianto, get me that! Ianto, I need a fuck—"

"Listen to me—"

"Yes, it's all about you, isn't it?" Ianto retorted. "Captain Jack Harkness, defender of the Earth—"

"Do you think I _chose_ to be who I am?" Jack asked incredulously. "Do you think I _like_ watching everybody I love die? Do you think I _enjoy_ dying repetitively, in the hope that this time it might be for good?"

"It's not my fault – blame your precious Doctor!" Ianto yelled, face red with anger.

Jack froze, and Ianto knew that he had crossed a line by dragging the Doctor into it. "You're not coming. And that's final."

Ianto regarded Jack bitterly. "Fine. But don't come back here afterwards."

"Wh— Of course I'm coming back here," Jack spluttered.

"Hurry up and get out," Ianto said, "_sir_." He curled his lips around the last word, as if it tasted bad.

"Ianto—"

"_Get out_."

"Fine," Jack spat, stalking out the room like an affronted cat.

Ianto flopped back against the pillows, angry tears filling his eyes. "Bastard."

Martha looked at him with a knowing glint in her eye. "Don't give him a too hard time," she said. "He just wants to look after you."

"I'm not a child," Ianto said, expression sour. "I can look after myself."

"Oh yeah, you can look after yourself _so well_ that you die once, try to kill yourself a second time, and get leukaemia."

"The leukaemia wasn't my fault!" Ianto protested.

"I know that. But you still couldn't stop it happening," Martha said. "Jack lost you once, Ianto. You can't really blame him for wanting to keep you around for as long as possible."

"I'm the one that's going to die," Ianto said, "not Jack. I should get the choice about what risks I take."

"Maybe that's so," Martha replied calmly, "but Jack's suffering as much as you are, don't forget. He's the one that has to watch somebody he loves slowly dying in front of him, and he can't do anything to stop it."

"He'll move on," Ianto said quietly. "He'll forget about me in the end."

"That won't happen and you know it," Martha said sharply. "Jack doesn't forget the people he loves."

Ianto closed his eyes tiredly, letting out a long sigh. "Maybe. But he'll love again. This won't keep him down." He smiled wryly. "Nothing keeps him down."

"Ianto."

"Yeah?"

"Jack isn't infallible, you know. He has his weaknesses," Martha smiled, "and, at the moment, that weakness is _you_."

Ianto looked at her for a moment, eyes unreadable. "Maybe you'd better go and help out with the fish," he said finally.

"Yeah," Martha agreed. "Just think about what I said, yeah?"

"I will," Ianto said, "and Martha?"

"Yeah?"

"Thankyou." Ianto offered her a soft smile.

"You're welcome. See you later." Martha closed the door behind her, leaving him alone once more.

-T-

"Ianto?" Jack whispered, quiet in the darkened room.

"Jack?" Ianto asked, voice groggy with sleep. "What're you doing here?"

"I…I wanted to say sorry. About earlier." Jack swallowed. "I shouldn't have treated you like that." He paused. "Can I sit down?"

Ianto reached out and turned on the bedside light; the small room instantly took on a warm, intimate atmosphere. He patted the bed. "Sit here."

"I—"

"Please."

Jack perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, uncertain of where this was going. "Ianto…"

Ianto reached out and took Jack's hand, lacing their fingers together loosely. "I know. And I'm sorry, too."

Jack looked down at their linked fingers, surprised. "I thought you were mad at me?"

Ianto chuckled. "Not anymore."

Jack kept quiet for a minute. "So I don't have to grovel, then?"

Ianto grinned, eyes dancing. Jack loved that mischievous grin and blue-eyed sparkle. "Well…"

Jack laughed softly, keeping his voice low as to not burst the bubble of comfort they seemed to be in at the moment. It was too special to break. "May I ask what changed your mind?"

"Martha," Ianto replied simply.

Jack nodded. He wet his lips, unsure of how to say what he wanted to.

"Will you stay tonight?" Ianto's voice was small, uncertain. He looked vulnerable against the stark white bedsheets, his good hand frail and grey where it held Jack's close. Jack felt that, if he squeezed too tight, the bones would snap and break, like brittle sticks of dry spaghetti.

"You want me to stay?"

"Yeah."

"Then I will." Jack smiled, attempting to swallow down the last shreds of sadness.

Ianto sat up, propping himself up with pillows. "Are you okay?"

Typical Ianto: caring about everybody else above himself.

Jack let out a shaky breath. "No," he admitted.

Ianto squeezed his hand, though Jack could feel the weakness in his grasp. "What happened?"

Jack shook his head. "I…I don't know how to say it."

"Then just say it as it comes," Ianto suggested.

Jack looked away, choosing to stare at the doorknob. "They want you to start chemotherapy."

"Isn't that good?" Ianto asked, confused. "That's a cure."

"There's only a fifteen-percent chance of you making it," Jack said softly, not meeting Ianto's eyes: he feared what he might see there. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness?

"What if I don't start it?" Ianto's voice was impossible to read.

"Then you'll die," Jack said, hating the matter-of-fact way it sounded. "Though it'll take longer."

"How long?"

"They're guessing at a couple of months. Half a year, tops."

Ianto was quiet. Jack risked a quick glance at him, and was confused at the smile he saw there. "What are you smiling about?"

"I was just thinking … I'm the first Torchwood agent to die of leukaemia." Ianto chuckled humourlessly. "Not exactly the way I expected to go."

Impulsively, Jack grabbed him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Ianto."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," Ianto told him. His breath tickled the back of Jack's neck, sending pleasant little shivers down his spine. "It's just a little bit earlier than I expected."

Jack felt tears pricking at his eyes, but he ignored them. "You need to go to sleep," he said, drawing back and trying to smile at Ianto. "It's nearly two in the morning."

Ianto shuffled over to put his back against the wall. Jack took the hint and kicked off his shoes, settling down facing Ianto.

"This reminds me of your bed in the Hub," Ianto said, almost sounding amused. He closed his eyes and yawned widely, flopping onto his front and burying his nose in the pillow.

Jack pulled the covers up over them. "The nurses will kill me in the morning," he said with a grin. "They hate it when I sleep in your bed."

"Well, they can hardly expect you to sleep in one of those chairs," Ianto said with a mock-shudder, "and they wouldn't get in a camp-bed when I asked."

"You asked them to get in a camp-bed?" Jack asked. It sounded like the sort of thing Ianto would do.

Ianto shrugged, struggling to undo his sling with his free hand so that he could relax comfortably. Jack took over, and with gentle fingers eased Ianto's arm out of the sling, dumping the material on the bedside table.

Ianto smiled his thanks at him, and wriggled closer, so that he could rest his head on Jack's chest.

Jack draped his arm across Ianto's side and kissed him softly. He tasted of pears and chocolate and sleepiness (if that could be tasted), not to mention the something that was indefinably _Ianto_.

Ianto smiled into the kiss, before pulling back and yawning widely. "I'm tired," he said in surprise.

"It is two a.m.," Jack pointed out with an amused smile.

"I slept all afternoon, too," Ianto said. "I shouldn't be this tired."

Jack's heart clenched as he recalled the words he had seen when he had looked up leukaemia on the internet. _Paleness, easy bruising, tiredness, aching in limbs—_

"It's probably nothing," he said quickly, not wanting to think about it.

Ianto lifted his head to give Jack his 'yeah, right – what do you take me for?' look.

"Well, not _nothing_," Jack amended, "but you don't need to worry about it."

"It's part of the illness, isn't it?" Ianto asked through another yawn.

Jack restrained the urge to yawn as well. "Yeah."

"Okay, then." Ianto put his head down again, sighing in contentment. "I'm going to go to sleep now."

"Sweet dreams." Jack brushed a kiss across his forehead before letting his eyes close as well, relaxing in the knowledge that Ianto was safe in his arms; his lover's heartbeat pounded sure and strong against his own, a harsh reminder that every beat was one closer to his last.

-T-

"Captain Harkness!" A loud voice jolted them both awake, Jack quickly wiping away the dribble of drool from the corner of his mouth. "What have we told you about sleeping here?"

"Sorry, Sister," Jack looked unusually contrite.

"Blame me," Ianto said, rubbing his eyes, "I asked him to stay."

"We have plenty of beds elsewhere if you really wanted to stay," Sister Kate said sharply. Her short-cut blonde bob with its brown roots quivered in annoyance. "There was no need to disturb Ianto."

"He didn't disturb me," Ianto protested. "Honestly, it was me that suggested he stayed."

"Humph." Sister Kate looked disbelieving.

Jack made to get out of bed, but Ianto put a hand on his arm to stop him. "I did ask for a camp-bed," he reminded her with a polite smile.

Sister Kate rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you just ask for a bigger bed?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Well, I figured that you wouldn't take that particularly well," he said. "Given your reaction this morning, I think I was right."

"I'll just go now…" Jack tried to slip away, but Ianto grabbed him again. "…or not."

The nurse regarded them thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe," she said, "or maybe not."

Ianto smiled at her. "So we _can_ have a bigger bed?" he asked hopefully.

"I'll think about it."

"Also, whilst you're here, can I have the day out today?" Ianto decided to try and push his luck.

Sister Kate's eyebrows rose a couple of inches up her forehead. "A day out?"

"Please, Katie?" Ianto asked, trying to look as healthy as possible. "I haven't been out for ages."

The nurse sighed, her walnut-brown eyes amused. "Provided you don't get up to anything too strenuous," she eyed Jack, "then yes. But come straight back here if you feel at all unwell."

"I feel fine," Ianto insisted. "I don't get why I'm stuck in here all the time. Most patients get to go out whenever they want."

"Most patients aren't meant to be dead," Katie retorted crisply, though her mouth crinkled up into an affectionate smile.

"I'll take care of him," promised Jack.

"Good, 'cos if you don't you've got me to answer to," she said. "Be back by three."

"Six," Ianto said.

"Four."

"Seven."

"Four."

"Six."

Katie sighed. "Look, come back at three and I'll let you go out for dinner. Deal?"

Ianto grinned, pushing back the covers. "Deal."

Katie shook her head. "Do you need me to help you dress?"

"I can do that," Jack said. "I've had plenty of practice doing the reverse."

Katie paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Remember, nothing strenuous," she warned.

"Sure, sure," Jack waved a hand in the air. "The golden rule."

Katie quirked an eyebrow, before vanishing back out, into the corridor. "And don't forget to check out at the reception."

"No problem." Ianto stood up, grabbing his jeans from the cupboard and trying to wriggle into them one-handed.

Jack laughed, helping him into them and picking up the first t-shirt in the cupboard.

Ianto shook his head vehemently. "Not green," he insisted. "Too like these gowns." He plucked at the loose hospital gown.

"Pink?" Jack held up a fuschia-coloured polo-shirt.

"The other pink one. I'm not a Barbie-doll."

Jack grinned. "Not even a Ken?"

Ianto pretended to consider it. He shook his head. "Nope."

Jack rooted through the pile, carelessly letting clothes drop to the floor. Ianto winced and swooped to pick them up, attempting to fold them.

"Leave that," Jack ordered, having found the requested shirt. "Arms up."

Ianto obeyed, letting Jack pull the gown over his head. "So, where are we going today?"

"Your choice," Jack said. "Gwen's dealing with the fish-cleanup."

"We could help her," Ianto suggested, standing still as Jack buttoned up his shirt.

"You want to do clean-up on your day off?"

"…good point. Katie says that there's a concert at the castle in the evening."

"The castle?" Jack quirked an eyebrow, tying off Ianto's sling. "Didn't know that there was a castle in Guernsey."

"You blind all of a sudden?" Ianto teased, sitting down to pull on his socks. "What d'you think that massive fort thing by the marina is?"

"My eyesight is fine, thankyou very much," Jack affected insult, but his pout quickly morphed into a grin at Ianto's eyeroll. "What sort of concert?"

"It's open-air," Ianto said, frowning with concentration as he laced up his trainers, "with different musical groups playing all over the castle."

"Sounds like fun. What time does that start?"

"Seven, I think, but I can talk Katie into letting us go." Ianto stood up and brushed a quick kiss across Jack's lips.

"Won't you be tired?" Jack asked anxiously. "That'll be late."

Ianto groaned. "Jack, I'm _fine_. I'm not about to break if you touch me too hard."

"Sorry, sorry…I just worry about you." Jack smiled tightly.

"Come on, no more depressing talk," Ianto took his hand and tugged at his arm. "We still haven't decided what we're going to do today."

"There are some leaflets in the reception," Jack said. "We could have a flick through those."

"Good idea. But before we do that, I want to get something to eat."

-T-

Ianto stuffed another slice of toast in his mouth, chewing furiously.

Jack watched him, a pleased smile on his face. "Nice to see you eating properly," he commented.

Ianto shrugged and swallowed his mouthful with difficulty. "I'm hungry," he said.

"You weren't yesterday," Jack said, not bothering to finish his own mouthful before speaking.

Ianto wrinkled his nose. "Don't speak when you're eating, Jack," he scolded.

"Whatever." Jack shovelled a forkful of scrambled egg into his mouth. "I didn't know that there was a restaurant here."

"It's hardly a restaurant," Ianto objected, "more of a café."

"They serve food, don't they?" Jack waved his knife around in the air. "Then it's a restaurant."

Ianto rolled his eyes, buttering a slice of toast. He bashed his elbow against the table edge and hissed in pain.

Jack reached out and grasped his arm gently, turning it over to examine his elbow. He noted the spreading red marks. "You'll have a bruise there."

"Great," Ianto sighed, "another one to add to my collection."

"Collection?"

Ianto withdrew his arm quickly, picking up the slice of toast. "You know how prone I am to getting bruised."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, but didn't push the subject. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea to get your sister over here," he said. "She's been asking to see you."

"When do I start chemo?" Ianto poured out more orange juice for them both. "I'd prefer to see her whilst I've still got my hair."

Jack swallowed, pushing back the pain he felt whenever he heard Ianto talking casually about his illness. "The doctors say next week at the latest. But they also want you to transfer back to the hospital in Cardiff."

"They've got more facilities there," Ianto agreed, sipping at his juice. "It makes sense."

"I'd go back with you, you do know that?" Jack asked. "The Doctor and Gwen can deal with the situation here."

"I'd talk to the team before you start making decisions," Ianto said. He put his knife and fork together neatly on his plate. "You finished?"

Even though he wasn't, Jack nodded. "Sure. Shall we go and have a look at those leaflets now?"

Ianto stood up, and nearly sat back down again. He put his hand to his head, closing his eyes in the hope that that world would stop spinning around him.

"Ianto?" Jack's hand touched his cheek, his voice scared. "What is it? D'you need me to get a nurse?"

Ianto opened his eyes again. "I'm fine. Just a dizzy spell."

"I think it might be better if we don't go out today—"

"We're going out today, and that's final," Ianto said. Jack flinched at his snappy tone, and Ianto flushed. "Sorry. That wasn't meant to sound like that."

"Doesn't matter," Jack forced a bright smile. "Shall we head off, Mr Jones?"

Ianto took the offered hand and smiled sheepishly. "That sounds like a superb idea, Captain."

"Call me Jack." Jack winked.

"Why, sir, I couldn't possibly do that," Ianto replied, deadpan. "It would be disrespectful."

Jack laughed, a sound that made Ianto smile involuntarily. "What if I like disrespect?"

Ianto smirked. "Well, then – _Jack_."

Jack slipped an arm around Ianto's waist and they ambled from the café-cum-restaurant with easy smiles on their faces.

-T-

"You know something?" Jack asked casually, face pressed up against the glass window of the bus.

"What?" Ianto tried to ignore the marks on the window, failing spectacularly when he reached across and rubbed at it with a handkerchief.

"Stop fussing," Jack said, leaning back. "I need to sign your cast."

"What with?" Ianto asked. "'Captain Jack woz ere'?"

"No, though that does have possibilities," Jack said. "All of us ought to sign it. Like a good-luck charm."

"'A good-luck charm'?"

"Well, a 'Get better soon' sort of thing," Jack said, averting his eyes.

Ianto paused, not wanting to dampen the mood. "If that makes you happy."

Jack looked back at him, a slight frown creasing his matinee idol features. He opened his mouth to say something, then evidently thought better of it and closed it again.

"Do you need to check up with the others?" Ianto asked, changing the subject. "Let them know what we're doing?"

Jack put a hand in his pocket, then looked up sheepishly. "Oops?" he offered.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You forgot your phone, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

Ianto shook his head. "You're hopeless." He pulled out his own phone. "Here, use mine – but don't use up all the credit. I don't want to have to top it up again."

Jack tried to convince himself that he had misinterpreted that last sentence, that Ianto had simply meant that he had only just topped it up, but he knew deep down that wasn't the case. "Thanks."

He quickly dialed Gwen's number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up.

"_Jack?" _she asked cautiously_. "What is it?"_

"Just thought that I'd let you know that Ianto and I are having a day out," Jack said. "We're going candle-making."

"'_Candle-making'?"_ she sounded incredulous.

"It was either than or museums or the aquarium," Jack said, "and I've never been candle-making before."

"_What time will you be back?" _

"Ianto needs to be back at the hospital by three," he replied. In the seat beside him, Ianto rolled his eyes. "And then we were thinking of going to the open-air concert up at the castle."

"_Mind if we tag along for that?" _

"Sure." Jack glanced at Ianto, who was busy watching an old woman count the number of coppers in her purse. "It starts at seven."

"_Castle Cornet?"_

"Are there other castles on the island?" Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"_Yeah, Mrs Applegate was telling us about them earlier."_

"Sounds interesting," Jack said.

Gwen obviously missed the sarcasm in his voice. _"Not really. I didn't listen to most of it."_

The bus rounded a corner, sending Ianto sliding into Jack. "Sorry," he mouthed.

Jack gave him a smile. "I'm afraid I need to go now, Gwen," he said. "Ianto will kill me if I use up all his credit."

"_Oh, okay,"_ she sounded disappointed. _"See you later, then."_

"Bye." Jack terminated the call and handed it back to Ianto. "All sorted."

The bus slowed, and the copper-counting lady got off. Ianto watched her go with a puzzled frown. "I'm yet to understand why she brought ten pounds in one and two pence," he said.

Jack laughed and slung an arm around his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe she just likes being different," he suggested.

"But it's not very logical." Ianto unwrapped Jack's arm from around his shoulders. "Not on the bus, Jack."

"Why not?"

"It's embarrassing."

"Why is it embarrassing?"

Ianto's cheeks were pink. "It just is."

Jack sighed. "You haven't got anything to lose," he pointed out. "It's not like you're going to see these people again."

Ianto frowned, mulling it through in his mind. "You know, you might have a point there," he said finally.

"Does that mean I'm allowed to kiss you now?" Jack asked hopefully.

Ianto leaned over and captured his mouth in a long, searching kiss. Jack grunted with surprise, his hand coming up to cradle Ianto's face.

A deliberate cough from behind them caused Ianto to jump back, his cheeks flaming.

A mother of two was looking at them with a stern expression. "Please, boys. This is public transport."

"Mummy!" her daughter complained. "I don't want to go to Granny's. She smells funny."

Jack winked roguishly at her. "How can I help myself, ma'am, when I have this gorgeous man sitting next to me?"

Her expression softened somewhat. "Maybe sit at the back of the bus, next time," she suggested, handing her three-year-old daughter a pink stuffed rabbit. "Quiet, Lulu," she ordered.

"There won't _be_ a next time," Ianto muttered.

Jack felt like he had been kicked in the gut as he realised the double meaning of Ianto's words.

Ianto saw his expression, and his expression saddened somewhat. He touched Jack's hand. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." Jack gave him a tight smile.

They were quiet for a few minutes, just watching the countryside travel by the window.

The elderly gentleman in the seat in front of them turned around, his thin face lined like old shoe-leather. "Didja 'ear about the bloke wot jumped off that cliff?" he asked.

Ianto and Jack both froze.

"The 'elicopter 'ad to go out, 'parently," the man continued, his rheumy eyes not picking up the tension between the two men.

"I know," Jack managed to say. "That was Ianto."

Ianto glared at Jack.

The man looked almost buoyant with delight. "Eh? Is that how you broke yer arm, mister…?"

"Jones. Ianto Jones." Ianto swallowed, trying to force down the urge to cry. Breaking down in tears on the bus wasn't the ideal way to convince Jack that he was fine.

"Oh, you poor lamb," the mother had overheard their conversation. "No wonder you look so pale. I trust you've been taking good care of him." She stared intently at Jack.

"Of course I have," Jack said, stung. "I'm his partner."

Ianto raised an eyebrow at the word, but didn't say anything.

"It's good t' see young people on 'oliday 'ere," the old man said. "We durn't see enough of 'em."

"It's a working holiday," Jack said.

"We're journalists," Ianto added. "For a holiday magazine."

"It's lovely here in the summer," the mother said proudly, "you might want to put that it."

"Will do," Ianto said.

"You ought to come back then, both of you," she continued, "I run the Old Vicarage B&B, so drop by if you need a place to stay."

The bus started to slow. Jack grabbed Ianto's good arm and flashed a brilliant smile at the mother and the old man. "This is our stop. Bye!"

He near dragged Ianto off the bus, his grip so tight that it was painful.

"Ow – Jack!" Ianto protested, trying to yank his shoulder free. "That hurt."

Jack let go instantly, his eyes worried. "Sorry," he apologized.

The bus rumbled away down the lane, puffing exhaust into the air around them.

"What is it?" Ianto asked, noting the tension of his face and shoulders.

"It's nothing." Jack gestured dismissively, turning sharply on his heel to head off down the road, where the sign for Guernsey Candles stuck out of the hedgerow.

"Jack—"

Ianto was interrupted by an abrupt, rough kiss. Jack forced his tongue into Ianto's mouth, demanding entry; his arms held Ianto tight against his body.

Jack pulled back, his eyes overbright. He looked as if he was about to break down in tears at any second. "God, Ianto," he choked, face distraught.

"Sssh…" Ianto reached out and held him in a comforting embrace, easing Jack's head down onto his shoulder. "It's okay, Jack."

"It's _not_," Jack said, his voice muffled. "You're not going to be here come the summer, and I can't—" He broke off, arms coming up around Ianto and holding him close, albeit far gentler than before. "You're dying and there's nothing I can do."

"You don't need to do anything," Ianto said softly, stroking Jack's hair with his good hand.

"But what sort of person am I if I can't even save you?"

"You're a hero, Jack," Ianto said, "but even heroes can't save everyone."

"Why do I have to be a hero?" Jack asked plaintively. "I don't want to be a hero. I want to be Jack, who doesn't have to worry about anything more than whether he turned off the radio when he left the house this morning."

Ianto stroked Jack's hair reassuringly, ignoring the fact that he was going to have a damp patch on his shoulder.

"I just want to be _normal_," Jack finished, his voice thick with tears.

"Normal is overrated, let me tell you," Ianto said, which earned a wet chuckle from Jack.

"Not from where I'm standing."

"What, at the side of a road in Guernsey?"

Jack lifted his head, his eyes red and puffy. He smiled, in spite of his tears. "That's my Ianto," he said affectionately.

Ianto gently kissed away the tears rolling down his cheeks, savouring the salty flavour on his lips. "Puffy eyes aren't a good look, you know."

"No," Jack agreed, brushing a gentle kiss over Ianto's lips. "Thankyou."

"For telling you that tearful isn't good?"

"You know what I meant." Jack drew back and scrubbed the back of his hand across his face. "Look at me, acting like this."

Ianto smiled. "Come on, I hear candles calling."

"Oh? What are they saying?" Jack took Ianto's slim hand in his as they started down the lane.

"'Get a move on and stop sniffling'," Ianto teased.

"I do not sniffle," Jack countered.

"You do," Ianto said.

"Do not!"

"Like you don't snore." Ianto gave Jack an amused look.

"But I _don't_ snore," Jack said. "I've never heard myself snoring, therefore I don't snore."

"You have some interesting reasoning there, Jack," Ianto informed him as they crossed the gravel drive to the low-slung barn.

"It's Harkness-reasoning," Jack told him haughtily, opening the door for him.

"Thanks," Ianto said, automatically.

Jack entered and stood behind him, hands on Ianto's waist. "Ready to make some candles, Mr Jones?" he breathed huskily in Ianto's ear.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You promised to behave, Jack."

"I am behaving!" Jack protested, not removing his hands.

"Hands."

Jack sulkily put his hands in his pocket as an elderly man in a plum turtle-neck sweater came through another door.

"Good morning," Ianto said politely. "We're here to make some candles."

"You're in luck that it's quiet today, then," the man said, pushing his owl-glasses further up his nose. "We had masses of people in here yesterday."

"That's nice," Ianto said. "Good business, then?"

"Very good," the man agreed. His sharp eyes clearly noted the way Jack was standing closely behind Ianto, and Ianto's arm in its sling. "Are you both planning to make candles?"

"We thought we would, yes," Jack said.

"Is there a problem?" Ianto asked.

"You might have a bit of trouble with that arm, is what I'm thinking," the candle-maker said with a frown. "I can get my niece to help you, if you want— Roberta!"

A slim girl with dusky features poked her head around the beaded curtain at the end of the room. "Yes, Uncle?"

"I can help Ianto," Jack said, resting his hand on Ianto's shoulder in a possessive gesture.

The candle-maker shot them an amused glance. "Roberta, are the tanks heated?"

"Nearly," came the response. "The blue's taking a while, though."

"But useable?"

"Yes." Roberta flashed a coy smile Ianto's way, ignoring the way Jack was glowering at her. She smoothed down her white apron. "Will you be needing help, sir?" she asked hopefully.

"Jack'll help me, but thanks all the same," Ianto said, as polite as ever. He smiled at her, trying not to laugh at the amused expression on her uncle's face. He could only guess what Jack's face must be like.

"Oh, if you're sure," she said, covering her disappointment well. "I'll just get you both aprons." She disappeared into the back room again, the pink beaded curtain swaying behind her.

"Have you made candles before?" the candle-maker asked.

"No," Jack said. "Never really thought of it before."

"I watched a documentary on it once," Ianto said. "It looked fascinating."

The old man's weathered face cracked into a warm smile. "It is, believe me. It's a shame that it's a dying art, though." He chuckled. "A bit like me, I guess."

Ianto felt Jack tense at his back, so he slipped his good arm around Jack's waist in a comforting gesture. "Does it take long?"

"Forty minutes, if you're quick," the candle-maker said, dipping his head like a chicken as he considered.

Roberta came back through the curtain, aprons in hand. Her smile stuttered a little when she saw Ianto with his arm around Jack's waist. "Here's the aprons, sirs," she said, handing them to Jack. "I'll be out the back if you want any help."


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Jack hovered behind Ianto as he carefully lowered his 'candle' into the first vat of hot wax, watching his every movement like a hawk.

Ianto dipped it into the cold water, before turning to look at Jack. "What colour next?"

"Red," Jack suggested. "It's your colour."

Ianto dunked it into the red vat, back into the cold water, then into the red again. "How many coats are there in total?" he asked the candle-maker.

The candle-maker shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose again. They seemed to have a habit of slipping down. "Sixty-four or so."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot."

"Tell me if you want a rest," Jack said immediately, "and I'll finish it for you."

"I'm fine, Jack," Ianto said, slightly irritated by his fussing. "Why don't you do your own?"

Jack blinked. "I'm meant to be helping you," he pointed out.

"I don't need any help," Ianto retorted. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Sorry," Jack said quietly, "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"Just a little bit." Ianto dunked the candle into the vat again, more savagely that intended. Hot wax splashed across his hand.

Jack was instantly there, shoving his hand into the cold water vat. "Tell me when it stops hurting," he ordered, anxiety etched into his features as he watched him.

Ianto bit down on his bottom lip, tears having sprung to his eyes in pain. "It hurts."

"I know it does," Jack soothed. "Come on, don't cry on me."

"I'm not going to cry," Ianto snapped.

Jack said nothing, just drew Ianto's hand out the vat again and started pulling at the wax. He hissed as it burnt his fingers, but didn't stop until every scrap was off Ianto's hand.

The candle-maker handed him some burn cream. "Smooth this on, and then we'll see if it needs a bandage."

Jack brushed a gentle kiss across the sore, reddened skin, before dabbing on the cream with practiced fingers. "There we go. Let's get a bandage on this now."

Ianto snorted. "Great. Katie's going to kill me."

"She'll kill me, you mean," Jack said. "Very slowly, too." He unwound the bandage from its roll and carefully wrapped it around Ianto's burnt hand.

"That'll be interesting to explain when you wake up," Ianto said. He blinked back tears. "I'm not very good at taking care of myself, am I?"

"That's what I'm here for," Jack said, knotting the bandage. "There – that better?"

Ianto managed a tight smile. "Yeah. Can you finish off the candle?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm taking you straight home," he said.

"But—"

"No buts," Jack said sternly, "at least, not that sort." He grinned.

"Jack, please." Ianto tucked his hand in his jacket pocket. "I want this candle to be finished."

"Why is it so important?"

"It just is." Ianto pulled a face. "Please."

Jack hesitated. "If you're sure…"

"I am."

Jack shook his head. "Fine."

Ianto smiled, and leant back against the wall. "Thankyou."

Jack shook his head, rolled up his sleeves, and got down to work.

-T-

"I'm hungry," Ianto said as they emerged from the candle-workshop, blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight.

Jack checked his watch. "I'm not surprised – it's nearly half-one."

"Lunch seems to be in order, then," Ianto replied. "Shall we catch the bus back into St Peter Port and have something to eat there?"

"Sounds like an idea," Jack agreed, putting a hand in the small of Ianto's back and steering him down the lane to where the bus was, luckily, already waiting. "Chips?"

Ianto considered. "I actually want a salad," he admitted, "if that's okay?"

Jack stood back to let him on the bus. "No problem."

The driver, a spotty youth in his early twenties with mousy-coloured hair gelled into spikes, held out his hand. "Money, please," he said, sounding infinitely bored.

Jack rooted around in the pockets of his greatcoat and handed him a five-pound-note. "Keep the change," he said, already following Ianto to the back of the bus.

"Hello again," a delighted voice said.

Ianto turned around, eyebrows rising in surprise when recognized the mother from before, this time minus children. "Hello," he responded.

"Looks like you took my advice, then," she said. "Sitting at the back."

Ianto blushed, and gestured at Jack. "We're just going to get some lunch back in St Peter Port," he said.

She narrowed his eyes at his bandaged hand. "What have you done to your other hand?"

"Candle making," Ianto said with a grimace.

She shook her head. "Bad?"

"No," Ianto shook his head, "Jack looked after me."

She smiled at Jack, who grinned back in his usual mega-watt way. "That's good to know."

They fell into an awkward silence, unsure of what to say. Jack cleared his throat uncomfortably a few times, as if he was about to speak, then thought better of it and stayed silent.

Ianto shifted in his seat. Beneath the cast, his left arm was itching, and his burnt hand had begun to throb.

Without saying anything, Jack put a hand on his knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. His face was unusually open; Ianto felt a warm glow in his veins, tingling up his spine and pooling in his stomach. Without really thinking about it, he shifted in his seat so that he could lean against Jack, despite the bulky cast making things difficult.

"You okay?" Jack murmured, breath warm against the side of Ianto's cheek. He slid his arm around Ianto so that his hand rested on Ianto's stomach.

The bundle of warmth inside Ianto grew just that little bit and the pain in his hand lessened slightly.

"Fine," Ianto said, his voice just as low as Jack's. Despite the fact that they were sitting in a bus full of people, this position felt strangely intimate and private. It was, Ianto thought, like the sort of thing you'd see in a (bad) romantic film, with the beautiful guy falling for the beautiful girl and love triumphing over all at the end.

Ianto knew that life wasn't like that and he most certainly disliked comparing what he and Jack had with a (bad) romantic film, but, as he sat at the back of the bus with Jack close beside him, he couldn't help but hope that they might somehow get part of that happy ending. As far-fetched as that hope might be, it was the one thing that kept him going.

Well, that and the fact that once he was gone Jack and the team would have to get by on the substandard coffee from Starbucks. That wasn't a thought Ianto liked to entertain.

The bus slowed, drawing to a halt at their stop. Jack didn't seem to be planning on standing up and getting off, so Ianto elbowed him.

"What?"

"This is our stop, Jack." Ianto rolled his eyes and stood up, staggering slightly as the bus stopped. Jack muttered something under his breath and followed him off the bus, his hand in the small of Ianto's back.

As they started along the waterfront, the sunshine of earlier transformed into menacing grey clouds above their heads, Ianto recognized the warm feeling for what it was: Happiness.

-T-

The restaurant was a small, family-run one by the waterfront. It had numerous photographs of racing boats up on the red-brick walls, and was relatively quiet. The only other customers were a family of five seated at the largest table in the centre, laughing and chattering over a card game of some sort.

The waiter, a young man with curly black hair and an abundance of freckles sprayed across his olive skin, showed them to a small table in the corner.

Ianto sat down with a sigh, rolling his neck to ease the stiffness as he did so. Jack shrugged out of his coat and flopped into his chair.

"Can I get you any drinks, sirs?" the waiter asked, notepad and pen poised.

"Just still water, please," Ianto said, polite as ever.

"Same for me," Jack added.

"Very good, sirs," the waiter said. "Can I interest you in the special of the day, Mussels in a red wine sauce?"

"No, thanks," Ianto said, paling slightly.

"Can we have the normal menu?" Jack asked.

"Of course, sir." The waiter picked up a couple of faux-leather menus from a stack on a nearby shelf, and handed them to Jack. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Not at the moment, thanks," Ianto said.

"I'll be back shortly," the waiter promised, before heading back through a white swing-door that, presumably, led into the kitchens.

Ianto went to pick up one of the menus, only to realise that he couldn't. "Uh, Jack? I think I may have a bit of a problem."

Jack cocked an eyebrow, not understanding. Ianto held up his hand. "I can't use a knife and fork."

Jack grinned. "Looks like I'll just have to feed you, then," he said. "We can get a platter, or something."

Ianto didn't seem at all encouraged by this suggestion. "This is hopeless," he said, his face drawn and upset. "I can't do anything right, can I?"

"Hey, hey," Jack said reassuringly, "you can do plenty of things right. It's hardly your fault that you got hurt."

"But it is!" Ianto retorted, not at all pacified. "If I hadn't jumped off that cliff—"

"What?" Jack interrupted, frowning in surprise. "What d'you mean, 'jumped off that cliff'?"

Ianto froze, eyes widening. He hadn't meant to say that. "I…"

"Ianto?"

He licked his lips nervously, looking down at the table. "I jumped off the cliff so that you would wake up," he said softly. "I figured that if you were using up all your life energy to keep me alive, then if I—"

"Wait a minute – have I got this right? You tried to _kill yourself_ so that I would wake up?"

Ianto swallowed. This was the tone of voice Jack used whenever he was trying not to shout. "Yeah."

Jack remained quiet for a moment. Then, "Why?"

Ianto kept his head down as he answered. "I'm meant to be dead. Not you. You've got to save the world. That's more important than keeping me alive."

Again, Jack didn't say anything. Cautiously, unsure of what he would see, Ianto lifted his head; he was startled to see tears glistening in the corners of Jack's eyes.

He was about to ask, then thought better of it. So he kept quiet, waiting for Jack to talk to him.

Jack shook his head, biting his lip hard in an attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. A single, fat tear escaping and rolled down his cheek, leaving a wet trail in its wake. Ianto wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe it away like he had done earlier, to hold Jack tight and comfort him like Jack did so often for him.

Jack dashed the tear away almost angrily. "God, Ianto. Why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?" Ianto asked, bewildered.

Jack half-smiled. "Make me cry like a baby," he said thickly. "I never used to cry this much in a single day."

Unsure of what to say, Ianto just settled for an apology. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Jack chuckled, a wet-sounding attempt at amusement. "Have you decided what you want? To eat, I mean?"

"Maybe a pasta?" Ianto suggested.

"I thought that you wanted salad?"

Ianto shrugged as much as his sling would allow. "Changed my mind."

"Fickle boy," Jack teased. He opened the menu and quickly scanned the options. "Pasta carbonara suit you?"

"Penne, not tagliatele," Ianto reminded him.

Jack pulled a mock-sad face. "But tagliatele would be so much more _fun,_" he objected.

"And messy."

Jack shrugged, an easy grin slipping over his face. "I like messy."

"I gathered," Ianto said dryly. "So carbonara it is?"

"Yep." Jack twisted around in his seat to scan the restaurant. "Where's the waiter got to?"

"Have you decided on your food yet, gentlemen?" the waiter said, suddenly standing beside their table, notepad and pen now tucked into his belt. He was balancing a round black tray with their drinks on, which he set down in front of them.

Ianto frowned at him. How had he got there so fast? "Penne carbonara, please," he said.

"That's a shared platter," Jack added.

The waiter nodded, scribbling down the order so fast he almost tore the paper. "Very good, sirs. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"I think that's it, thankyou," Jack said. He flashed a winning smile at the waiter.

"Very good, sirs," the waiter repeated, backing away and vanishing through the kitchen door again.

Ianto looked at Jack, who was frowning after the waiter. "Creepy kid," he commented.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Makes me wonder a bit, about the food."

"Give it a scan," Ianto said, nodding at Jack's wrist.

"How did—?" Jack started, then shook his head. "Never mind." He pulled up his shirt-sleeve, and flipped open his Vortex Manipulator.

He surreptitiously held it out in front of him, squinting at the read-out. "Seems okay…" he said, regarding the jug of water doubtfully.

"Then stop fussing," Ianto said pragmatically. "Just relax."

Jack chuckled and reached across the table to touch Ianto's face affectionately. "That's my Ianto."

Ianto blushed, ducking his head and staring at the table. "Stop it."

"What?" Jack sounded anxious. "Did I do something wrong?"

Ianto shook his head, peeping up at Jack through his lashes. "It's just a bit embarrassing," he said, "and makes me feel about five years old."

"That reminds me, I ought to get you an early birthday present," Jack said.

"There's no need—"

"It's just my excuse for spoiling you, okay?" Jack grinned. "I don't get to spoil you nearly often enough."

"I don't need to be spoiled," Ianto said. "It's unprofessional."

Jack quirked an eyebrow, amused. "And since when have I cared about being professional?"

"_I_ care about being professional," Ianto said stubbornly.

Jack blinked, sitting back and folding his arms, his normal defence reaction. "Is that a way of saying that you're embarrassed by me?" he asked quietly.

Ianto's eyes widened in shock. "No! No, of course not. I just don't particularly like public shows of affection like that."

"You were fine with it on the bus."

"At first." Ianto shook his head. "It just isn't like me, Jack."

"Okay…" Jack unfolded his arms. "So when is it too much?"

"I…" Ianto cast around desperately. "It depends."

"Well, that helps."

"Sorry." Ianto glanced over at the family. The youngest girl, who couldn't have been more than six, was watching them with wide baby blues, a strand of ginger-blonde hair twisted around her fingers.

Beside her, her brother had his head down, concentrating intently on his Nintendo DS, and her sister was chatting away with their parents.

Ianto bit his lip as it finally came home to him that a family like that was another thing he wasn't going to have. He managed a small smile for the girl and looked away, back at Jack.

Jack smiled at him, trying to be as comforting as he could. "Cheer up," he said. "We've got time yet."

"Not that long."

Jack paused. "No," he acknowledged, "but it's still our time. That's why I want to make the most of it."

His eyes were over-bright, his smile too forced. It made something inside Ianto feel like it was tearing apart.

"Maybe we could watch a film back at the hospital?" Ianto suggested tentatively. "Just sit and watch something together. If you don't have to be anywhere else, that is," he amended quickly. "I understand if you need to—"

Jack's finger on his lips forestalled anything he might have been about to say. He removed it a millisecond later, but Ianto could still feel the tingle from his touch. "Ianto – today is your day. Nobody else's. It's just for you and me."

Ianto smiled. "So that's a yes?"

"And then a picnic at the castle this evening," Jack said.

"Maybe it would be better to ask Gwen if she'd help with the food," Ianto suggested.

"Are you saying that you doubt my skills in the food department?" Jack mock-frowned. "They are nothing less than exemplary, I'll have you know."

"Considering the fact that you'd probably pack all the wine and cake, forgetting all the fruit and juice, I think that my fears are reasonably founded," Ianto said, falling back easily into the light-hearted banter he enjoyed so much with Jack.

"Who needs healthy stuff?"

"People who wish to keep themselves healthy," Ianto responded. "Even immortal captains need to keep in shape."

"Are you suggesting that I'm putting on weight?" Jack's voice squeaked slightly in indignation.

"Well, all that take-away and pizza can't help," Ianto pointed out. "Nor the coffee."

"But I like your coffee!" Jack protested. "I'm not giving _that_ up."

"I'm not suggesting that you do," Ianto said. "Can I have a drink of water, please?"

Jack carefully poured some of the ice-cold water into Ianto's glass, before holding it up to the Welshman's lips so he could take a sip.

"That's horribly demeaning," Ianto muttered as Jack wiped away a dribble of water that had escaping down his chin.

"Having an incredibly dashing and handsome captain like me help you drink?"

"Needing anybody to help me at all."

Jack poured himself a glass and took a casual swallow. "Think of it like an honour," he suggested. "You're so amazing that you get somebody to hand-feed you."

Ianto couldn't help but laugh at the earnest expression of Jack's face.

"I mean it," Jack said seriously, sitting forward on his seat. "Another sip?"

Ianto shrugged, this time managing to get all of the water in his mouth without mishap. "Thanks."

"It's my pleasure," Jack said in an attempt at a posh London accent.

"That's terrible," Ianto told him, though he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"What is?"

"That accent." Ianto shook his head. "Promise me that you'll never, ever become an actor."

"Hey, I'm a fantastic actor," Jack said.

"Modest, too."

"Why should I be modest when I have you?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Sappy, too."

"I was being romantic," Jack informed him haughtily.

Ianto snorted. "Please, spare me."

"You don't like me being romantic?" Jack looked hurt.

"I don't like you being sappy," Ianto corrected. "There's a difference."

"I don't see how there's a difference," Jack said, frowning into his drink.

Ianto was saved from having to attempt to explain romance to his confused lover by the arrival of the platter-bearing waiter.

"Penne carbonara platter," he announced, setting it down in the middle of the table. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thankyou," Ianto replied.

"Enjoy your meal, gentlemen," the waiter said, adding in a half-bow, before slipping off to the family's table.

"You wanna have the first mouthful?" Jack offered, holding it up.

Ianto shook his head. "You tell me what it's like."

Jack shrugged. "Your loss." He popped it in and almost immediately spat it out again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand whilst glaring at the platter in disgust.

"What is it?" Ianto asked curiously.

"Salt," Jack announced. "_Far _too much salt – like chewing a mouthful of seaweed."

Ianto peered at it. "It looks fine."

"Believe me, it isn't." Jack pushed his chair back, making an ugly scraping noise on the brick floor. "Where's the waiter gone?"

"He was by the other table a second ago," Ianto said, frowning in confusion at the disappearance of the young man.

"Screw this," Jack growled, storming over to the white swing doors and throwing them open.

Only to stare in shock at the inside of an empty store-cupboard.

"Now that's a little freaky," Ianto said, getting up to stand by Jack. "Not many people can make a kitchen turn into a cleaning-cupboard."

"This stinks of a trap," Jack said softly, turning around to scan the restaurant.

And was confronted by a row of angry fish-people, the happy family now morphed into snarling, shark-toothed, scaly-skinned selkies.

-T-

Ianto opened his eyes, and then promptly closed them again.

The wall he was propped against was cold and uncomfortably hard. The floor was slightly slick beneath him, though with what he had no way of telling.

He forced himself to open his eyes, to examine his surroundings in the impassive way he had been taught. Ianto took a deep breath, and realised that there was a gas-mask attached to his face. A long tube extended from the front of it and snaked across the floor, like the shed skin of a gargantuan serpent, to a box fixed to the wall in the corner.

With mounting panic, Ianto realised that there was no way of him removing the mask from his face; he couldn't use either of his hands.

Where was Jack? The small room – cell – was empty, save for Ianto himself. He could feel his mouth drying, his hair prickling uncomfortably with fear. All he could think of was Jack – where was he? What happened? Why couldn't he remember anything? Jack?

Maybe, if he could remove this mask, he would be able to think clearly. He moved to pull it away, then thought better of it: the air had a strange feel to it, heavy and close. Maybe the mask was feeding him oxygen, because there was none in this room.

Or…

Ianto quickly cut off that line of thought. _No point going there_, he told himself sternly, _just focus on getting out. _

He checked the walls again. Like he had suspected earlier, there was no door.

Ianto jumped as a sharp knock echoed throughout the room. He swallowed, hearing footsteps outside, and wished that he had use of at least one of his hands.

Then part of the wall swung inwards, operating on an invisible hinge, and Jack tottered through.

Ianto stifled a cry at the state of him; his clothes were ragged and ripped, his face bloodied and his hands tied behind his back.

As soon as he saw Ianto, Jack's face relaxed with relief. He bit his lip, falling forward onto his knees and crawling close.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a rough whisper, blue eyes anxious. "Have they hurt you at all?"

Ianto shook his head. "I'm fine," he said, his voice distorted by the mask. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, the usual," Jack said with a crooked smile. "Torture, threatening, displays of violence – you get my drift."

Ianto's gut clenched, a heady sense of anger flooding his veins. _How dare they…_ "Bad?"

Jack shrugged. "Not particularly. They didn't kill me, at any rate."

"Small mercies."

"But mercies all the same." Jack smiled, his eyes sad. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," Ianto replied, "a few minutes." He considered, head tipped to one side. "Less, maybe."

"So you don't know what's happened?" Jack's face was taut, his eyes searching what he could see of Ianto's face, behind the mask, with increasing anxiety.

Ianto shook his head. "What _has_ happened?"

Jack pulled a face. "Well, it's been enlightening to say the least." He nodded at the gas-mask. "You collapsed a couple of hours ago. The mask's for oxygen, as far as I can tell."

"I collapsed?" Ianto frowned. "Why?"

Jack looked away. "No idea."

Ianto didn't say anything, waiting for Jack to tell him the truth.

Jack locked his eyes with Ianto's, his expression raw. "They shocked us, when we arrived."

"Shocked? As in—"

"Electric shocks," Jack said. "Mind probes."

Ianto cocked an eyebrow. "How come our heads didn't explode?"

Jack chuckled. "Our mind-probe's very crude. They have a _much_ more up-to-date model."

"Again, small mercies," Ianto said softly.

Jack frowned. "Sorry, didn't catch that."

Ianto raised his voice, "I said, 'Again, small mercies'."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "That's one way of looking at it." He shifted to sit on Ianto's right, so that their arms were brushing. Ianto knew that Jack took comfort from the contact, that it reassured him that Ianto really was there, alive and speaking to him. "But they found out about Torchwood."

"Everything?"

"A good deal of it," Jack said grimly. He let his head fall back against the wall and sighed. "Not good."

"Not particularly," Ianto agreed. "Do you know who they are?"

Jack grimaced. "No."

"Well, that's helpful," Ianto quipped, before seeing Jack's face fall. "I didn't meant it like that. It's not your fault."

"I can see the report: 'Sorry, I was too busy splayed out screaming to discover anything useful'," Jack joked weakly.

Ianto reached up with his bandaged hand to touch Jack's face, ignoring the sparks of pain that shot up his arm as he traced Jack's lips with a forefinger. "So it _was_ bad."

Jack closed his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted. "But you didn't need to know."

"Did you die?"

"I think so."

"You _think so_?"

Jack smiled, though without any trace of humour. "It kinda got hard to tell, after a couple of hours."

Ianto said nothing, just kept his hand against Jack's cheek instead of a verbal apology, which he knew Jack would rebuff.

"They did keep on mentioning the 'other group'," Jack said suddenly. "I did hear that."

"What did they say about them?"

Jack's brow creased as he tried to remember. "I don't know," he said finally, brokenly. "It's just a blank space."

_Pain dissociation. _Ianto had questioned enough witnesses in his time at Torchwood to know that there was no way Jack would be able to break through that gap in his memory.

"It's…" Jack trailed off, shaking his head. He looked at Ianto, the expression in his eyes lost. "Why can't I remember?"

Ianto's heart seemed to break a little bit further at the scared and confused tone in Jack's voice. He dearly wanted to pull Jack close, to chase away the monsters and make everything right again. "It's just something that happens when there's too much pain for the brain to cope with," he explained. "It's happens all the time."

"I know that," Jack said. "But I can usually remember if I try hard enough."

Ianto blinked. "You can break through pain dissociation after it's actually happened?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess. Like you can break through retcon."

"But this time you can't?"

The crease between Jack's eyes reappeared. "No."

They fell silent. Ianto's ass was starting to go numb. He wriggled, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "They could at least stick us in a _nice_ cell," he muttered.

"What were you expecting, Buckingham Palace?" Jack nodded at the gas mask on Ianto's face. "You're lucky you got that at all. I thought—" He stopped, evidently thinking better of what he was about to say, though Ianto could read it in his face.

_I thought I was going to lose you again. _

"Can I take it off now?" Ianto asked.

"Is your hand up to it?"

"Anything to get this off." Ianto reached up, and slowly, excruciatingly, unbuckled the clasp and let the mask fall to the floor. He breathed out slowly, his skin tingling where the mask had dug in. "That feels better."

Jack was staring at the mask, his eyes narrowed. "Can you pass me that?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I've got a hunch," Jack admitted. "Just pass it."

Ianto picked it up, his hand screaming with pain, and dropped it into Jack's lap.

Jack bent his head, peering at the inside of the mask. "Ianto…" he said slowly, after a couple of minutes inspection, "do you feel any better?"

"Bettter?" Ianto echoed, baffled. "What sort of 'better'?"

"_Better _better. Do you feel ill?"

"Not particularly. What's that got to do with the gas-mask?"

Jack didn't reply for a moment, seemingly fascinated by the mask. "Because I think that they weren't just feeding you oxygen…"

Ianto felt a tight flutter of panic in his chest. He swallowed, unconsciously pressing himself closer to Jack.

"…I think that they were also feeding you nanogenes," Jack said, an edge of excitement to his voice.

"Like those little healing robots?"

"Like those little healing robots," Jack confirmed. "Which means—"

He was interrupted by the wall-but-actually-a-door opening again. A burly fish-man marched through, a handgun clutched with webbed hands. "Torchwood!" he said, his voice low and croaky, like he was unaccustomed to using it. "You come with me."

Jack had automatically shifted in front of Ianto when he had seen the gun, and now he stood up. Ianto got to his feet as well, unsure of what was happening.

"Where are you taking us?" Jack asked, his voice cautious. "What do you want?"

The fish-man paused, as if holding an inner debate. "We do not answer prisoners' questions," he finally announced, gesturing with the gun through the door. "You come with me. The weak one as well."

Ianto felt himself puffing up with indignation, but kept his mouth shut. It would only make things difficult if he put his foot in it now.

"I'm warning you," Jack said, voice low and deadly, "you touch one hair on his head and you'll have me to answer to."

Again, the fish-man appeared to hold a mental conversation with himself. "We have no answer," he said after a moment. "You come with us."

Jack looked around at Ianto, who nodded. They didn't really have a choice, whatever Jack might think.

With a small smile in Ianto's direction, Jack stepped through the door, only to yell in shock as an icy deluge of water cascaded onto him.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, blinking water out of his eyes.

"All prisoners must be cleaned before exiting their containment pods," the fish-man said, his expression close to what Ianto suspected was amusement.

Ianto rolled his eyes and stepped through the doorway, a small whimper escaping his lips as he was subjected to the same treatment.

His clothes were stuck uncomfortably to his body as he walked beside Jack, following their captor along wide, low-ceilinged corridors.

Jack cast him an appreciative side-ways look out of the corner of his eye. "I've always wanted to see you in wet clothes," he murmured.

"Maybe not in these conditions, though," Ianto said, suppressing a shiver.

Jack noticed. "They haven't exactly cottoned onto the idea of central heating, have they?"

Ianto was prevented from answering by a throaty order from the fish-man: "Prisoners will remain silent!"

"Yes, _sir_," Ianto muttered, just loud enough for Jack to hear.

Jack shuddered. "Don't do that," he whispered. "It was bad enough when you did it to Owen."

"You have a filthy mind," Ianto informed him in an undertone, "really, _sir._"

"Please don't do that now," Jack begged, still taking care to ensure that they weren't heard. "You know what it does to me – I really need a clear head at the moment."

"You're always thinking like that," Ianto accused.

"_Prisoners will remain silent!_" the fish-man repeated, adding in an emphatic arm gesture for effect.

They kept quiet, sensing that they were pushing their luck. The temperature seemed to be getting colder and colder, the further they went. Ianto had a sudden realisation. He nudged Jack in the ribs. "We're under the Channel," he breathed.

Jack's eyes widened, and he nodded. "Makes sense," he mouthed back.

Then they rounded a corner and were confronted by a large glass tank.

Floating inside it were masses and masses of _brains_.


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

"Oh, god," Ianto groaned, averting his eyes instantly. "That is _revolting_."

Jack stared at the brains in apparent fascination. "What _is_ that?" he asked, curious.

"This is us," the fish-man said proudly.

"What do you mean? How is that," Jack nodded at the tank, the brains floating lazily in the water, "you?"

"We do not answer prisoners' questions."

"You keep on saying 'we' – what d'you mean by that?" Jack asked.

"We do not answer prisoners' questions."

Jack nodded, as if this explained something. He leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the glass side, scrutinising the over-sized brains with apparent curiousity.

"Jack?" Ianto asked. His heart was pulsing rapidly at the base of his throat.

Jack flicked him a glance which clearly read 'Don't say anything - I've got it all under control'.

Ianto responded with a quirked eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut.

"What did you bring us here for?" Jack questioned. "I mean, it's a lovely tank and everything, but I don't—"

"Prisoners will remain silent!" The fish-man rapped the handgun against the side of the tank.

Ianto felt rather than heard the shot going off, saw the glass cracking and the water crashing through—

-T-

Jack Harkness opened his eyes to a bright, sunny Tuesday morning. He yawned, stretched, and rolled out of bed, padding across to the door and sticking his head into the kitchen.

"Tea?" his partner asked, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

"I'd appreciate a coffee, actually," Jack said, wandering over and grabbing a slice of toast from his partner's plate.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me that you're kidding."

Jack ruffled his hair, just to annoy him. "No, really – I'd like a coffee."

Ianto put down his paper and stared at Jack bemusedly. "I don't do coffee. You know that, Jack."

Jack paused, a memory niggling at the back of his brain. He frowned, trying to remember.

"Jack?" Ianto looked at him, a worried expression in his green eyes. "What's wrong?"

Jack shook his head, and smiled reassuringly at him. "Nothing, don't worry. A tea's fine."

Ianto smiled back and pushed back his chair, going to the kettle and flicking it on. Jack admired the view for a minute, before picking up the paper and scanning the headlines.

"The president's son's been picked up for drunk-driving again," Ianto said, deftly dumping a tea-bag into a mug and pouring hot water over it. Steam surrounded him, and for a moment he looked insubstantial and ghostly. Jack blinked, and he was back to normal again.

Ianto handed him the tea with a bright smile. "Gray said that he'll be dropping by for dinner sometime," he said. "I was thinking of doing a pot-roast."

"Sounds great," Jack said, hands wrapped around the mug. He took a careful sip. "Are you at home today?"

Ianto shrugged and picked up his remaining slice of toast, green eyes glinting like those of a cat. "Well, you would know."

Jack chuckled. "I was only trying to make conversation. Are you visiting your mother?"

Ianto politely finished his mouthful before replying, "I haven't been for a couple of weeks – I really ought to."

"That's no problem," Jack said. "I was just wondering if you want me to pick up something on my way home."

Ianto stood up again, dropping the toast in the bin and placing the plate in the dishwasher. "I'll rustle up something."

Jack relaxed back in his seat. "I'm looking forward to it."

Ianto turned and presented a brilliant smile. Jack felt an unexpected sense of unfamiliarity for a flash of a second, before Ianto headed for the door on the other side of the kitchen. "That'll be the post-girl," he said.

"I didn't hear a knock."

"There was one," Ianto assured him with another smile. "Be right back."

Jack nodded, picking up his paper again and opening it to the second page. Then frowned.

Why was the second page blank?

Ianto returned back to the kitchen, a wad of letters in his hand. "I was talking to Diane from Reprographics yesterday, and she was suggesting we think about adopting—"

"We've got a faulty paper," Jack said, interrupted Ianto's chatter.

Ianto cast the letters onto the table and leant over Jack's shoulder. "What d'you mean?"

Jack thrust the paper at him. "Look – it's blank. Nothing. Nada."

Ianto took it from him and checked inside. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure – I think I might have noticed had there been writing on it," Jack snapped.

Ianto ignored his tone and instead frowned down at the paper. "It isn't blank," he said in confusion. And, when he showed Jack the paper, there was indeed print covering the pages. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Jack said quickly. "Just having a bit of a strange morning, to be honest."

"Do you need the day off?"

"The headmaster can't take a day off school just because of an odd morning." Jack stood up again, checking his watch. "Which reminds me – I'd better be getting ready."

Ianto nodded and folded the paper. "I'll get your lunch from the fridge."

"Who's covering your history class today?" Jack said impulsively.

Ianto's forehead creased in an anxious frown. "Gwen Cooper, remember?"

"Gwen Cooper?" Jack felt the start of a headache building behind his eyes. "I thought she was in the English department?"

"She is." Ianto stood up; worry still glittered in his jade-coloured eyes.

"Then why's she—?"

"She's only covering," Ianto reminded him gently. He carefully wrapped his arms around Jack, kissing his neck affectionately. "I really think that you should stay home today. You seem out of sorts."

Jack sighed and relaxed into his partner's embrace, closing his eyes for a moment. "I can't," he said. "That sends out the wrong message."

Ianto withdrew, scrutinising Jack's face closely. "If you're sure," he said doubtfully. "But I—"

"I'm fine, Ianto, alright?" Jack retorted, his temper fraying. "I can take care of myself." He felt an odd sense of déjà vu as the words left his mouth.

Ianto raised an eyebrow coolly. "Of course. I'll just let you work yourself so far that you get ill, why don't I?"

"I'm not _ill_," Jack said through gritted teeth. "It's just a headache. Couple of aspirin and I'll be right as rain."

"You're not immortal, y'know," Ianto said. "You don't magically bounce back from everything."

Again that ripple of déjà vu. Jack shook his head, hoping that it would help dissipate his headache. "Look," he sighed, "just let me deal with it in my own way, okay?"

Ianto shrugged and sat down again. His face was stony, his eyes like cold, emerald marbles in his face. "Have it your way."

"_Thankyou_." Jack felt the coil of frustrated anger inside his chest relax a fraction. "I'll just go and get dressed."

-T-

Ianto saw the water surging towards him, slimy, salmon-grey coloured brains riding them like surfers, the noise making it impossible to even think straight.

Jack hurled himself in front of him, shoving him back towards the corridor and yelling, "Get out! Get out, _now_!"

Ianto stumbled backwards, his feet deadened in shock. As if in a dream, a nearest brain seemed to fly out of the water and latch itself onto Jack's back; Jack fell, his torso twisting as he splashed into the water.

The water was still coming, faster than before, and Ianto finally found his feet. He fought the urge to run, instead plunging into the water after Jack. He knew that it was foolish, he knew that, if they ever got out of this, Jack would have a complete hissy fit, he _knew_ all this.

But that didn't stop him.

He felt a cold, wet weight hit him between the shoulder blades; a sharp pain pierced his neck like a spear, and he too saw the water coming up to meet him before he blacked out.

-T-

Ianto Jones wasn't the sort of person to sit in the pub in the evenings and drink with his mates. Ianto Jones wasn't the sort of person to be yelling obscenities at the television screen on which England was thoroughly beating Wales in the rugby.

He wasn't the sort of person to do either of these things, yet on that particular night he found himself there, partaking with a ferocious delight.

And he didn't even think anything odd of it. If he had really stopped and considered, he would have realised that something was wrong. Ianto Jones was clever enough to realise that, and some.

But he didn't stop to consider it. He just drained his beer glass and hollered for a refill with a throat raw from bellowing.

Dan, one of his mates, elbowed him in the ribs. "Lisa know you're here?" he asked in one of the quieter moments.

Ianto shook his head, not taking his eyes from the screen. "She thinks I'm still at work."

Dan winked conspiratorially. "I won't tell her if you don't tell Rosalie," he said.

"Deal." Ianto gulped at his beer again, the alcohol pleasantly befuddling to his senses.

Dan laughed, still disgustingly sober. "You'll regret that in the morning."

"Who cares?" Ianto shrugged and took another swallow. "I don't."

"Lisa'll smell it," Dan warned. "They always do."

Ianto stopped, and considered. "Why am I here?" he asked, after a moments bewildered thought.

Dan shrugged, and for a moment Ianto could have sworn that his eyes changed from brown to grey. "No idea."

"I don't drink," Ianto said, plonking the glass down, beer washing over the sides. He got up, Dan watching him in confusion. "I should go. Jack'll be wondering where I am."

"Jack?"

Ianto blinked at him. "What?"

"You said that Jack'll be wondering where you are. Who's Jack?" Dan's expression was suddenly horrified. "You're not cheating on Lisa, are you?"

Ianto frowned. "You must have misheard me," he said. "I don't know any Jacks."

"Sure." Dan tipped his head at the door. "Run along, then," he teased. "Can't leave the missus waiting."

Ianto nodded, stumbling to the door and staggering out.

Dan watched him go, his eyes a powdery shade of blue.

-T-

"Jack?" Ianto asked in horror.

Jack looked up from buttoning his coat. "Yeah?"

Ianto was staring at him in badly-concealed shock. "What are you wearing?"

"My coat," Jack said, confused. "Why?"

"You hate that coat," Ianto said. He gestured to the RAF coat, green eyes wide. "Last time I tried to make you wear it you refused."

"It was a fancy dress party!" Jack protested. "I just felt like a change."

"You can hardly wear it to school," Ianto pointed out. "The kids will laugh."

"They can laugh and be put in detention." Jack smoothed down the lapels. "I—"

"Look, Jack, you're clearly not thinking straight," Ianto interrupted. "I think it would be better if—"

"No!" Jack said angrily. "I'm in charge, and what I say goes. Okay?"

"Jack—"

"_No_." Jack swivelled on his heel and marched past his partner, swiping the blue plastic lunchbox from the table as he went, before yanking open the door and storming down the path.

Ianto followed him out. "You might want your brief-case," he called.

Jack ignored him, despite the small voice in the back of his head telling him to turn around and make things right. He carried on down the empty road until he rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into Ianto.

"What the—"

"Your briefcase," Ianto said with a tight smile, holding out a smart black case.

"How did you—?"

"I'll have dinner on the table by six, okay?" Ianto continued on over him. "Don't be late – there's a film on tonight that I want to see."

"I…okay. Sure." Jack took the briefcase, and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed Ianto on the cheek. "See you later."

-T-

"Mr Harkness?"

Jack looked up from his desk to see a petite blonde in a loose blouse at the open door. She had a red manila folder clutched by a perfectly manicured hand, and her short skirt had a slit up the side. "Sylvia," he greeted her, before looking back down at the forms on his desk.

"Sir, I was wondering if I should make a call to the Harpers?" Sylvia fixed her clear grey gaze on him. He shifted uncomfortably under her piercing stare.

"Why?" he asked, picking up his pen and doodling absently on it.

"Max has missed yet another day of school," Sylvia said. "Even Toshiko Sato's son has to attend school, no matter what he thinks."

"Toshiko Sato, the inventor of the Externet?" Jack queried. "She's got a kid?"

Sylvia nodded jerkily, her expression unreadable. "And a husband. Dr Owen Harper."

Jack sat back in his chair, tapping his pen against his lips thoughtfully. "So what's the kid done?"

"Skipped school." Sylvia barely hid her growing impatience. "Again."

"He's done it before?"

"Evidently," she said tightly. "So I was thinking that I should make a call to—"

"Why wasn't I notified before?" Jack interrupted, sitting forward again and leaning his forearms on the desk. "I'm the headmaster – aren't I meant to be told?"

"It didn't seem necessary—"

"Of course it's necessary!" Jack snapped. "I need to know what happens in this place, if I want to do my job properly."

Sylvia froze, taken aback by the vehemence in his voice. "Apologies, sir," she said coolly. "I wasn't aware that you would want to be bothered by something so trite."

Jack flicked the pen around his fingers, struggling to keep his temper under control. "I can understand why you thought that, but in future I want to know _everything_." The pen slipped from his grasp, rattling against the sleek polished yew.

"It won't happen again," Sylvia promised, backing out the room. "I'll make the call now."

"You do that." Jack slumped in his chair, pressing the bases of his palms against his eyes. "What a great start to the day," he muttered, before picking up the pen again and attempting to make a start on the forms.

-T-

Ianto's feet felt heavy and leaden, his wrists and fingers aching from long hours typing at work. His head was muzzy, like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. He touched a hand to his ear, just to check that there wasn't any white fluff poking out.

A girl gave him an odd look, and he blushed self-consciously. _Idiot_, he berated himself. _Just imagine how amusing Jack would find it if you got labelled as the neighbourhood loon. _

He frowned. There it was again – that mention of 'Jack'. Why did that name keep on spinning to the surface? He didn't even know any Jacks, let alone well enough to keep on thinking about them.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against his leg. _Jack would like that_, he thought, before catching himself and shaking his head. _Must be the drink_, he decided, pulling out his mobile and checking the caller ID. "Hey there, Lisa," he greeted her.

He could almost see her disapproving frown. "Have you been drinking?" she asked suspiciously.

"'Course not," Ianto replied. He forced a laugh. "What makes you think that?"

"Other than the fact that you sound only half-coherent?"

"Coherent," Ianto mused. "Sound like half-there, doesn't it? 'Co', and then 'here'."

"Ianto…"

"I'll be home soon," he said. "What's for dinner?"

"I was actually ringing to say that you'll have to get yourself something," she said. "I'm working late tonight – my boss wants me to finish off some paperwork."

"What's your boss's name?" Ianto asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised how random a thing it was to ask.

Lisa paused, down the other end of the line. Then: "Harkness," she said, "Jack Harkness."

Ianto froze, head spinning.

"Ianto?" Lisa's voice, thin and worried, trickled out the phone held loosely in his right hand. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I…" he croaked. "'m fine."

"Are you sure?" Lisa asked, sounding concerned. Ianto gritted his teeth, pressing his fingers to his temple and willing the headache to go away. "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I'll be fine," he said, although it sounded false to his own ears. "See you later."

"Ianto—" she started, but he quickly flipped the phone shut, cutting her off. He didn't put it back in his pocket, but instead sat himself down on the curb, staring blankly into space. The cotton-wool was gone now, replaced with a deafening numbness. _What the hell's going on?_

His mobile rang again, vibrating in his palm. Without thinking, he answered. "Ianto Jones."

"Oh, sorry, must be a wrong number," an American answered, sounding confused. "Sorry for bothering you."

"No problem." He hung up, still acting more on autopilot than anything else. _What the hell's going on? _he thought again.

Once more, the phone shuddered. Ianto frowned. _This really isn't a normal occurrence._ "Ianto Jones," he said again, starting to feel fractionally more clear-headed.

"Again?" The American man sounded irritated this time. "This must be a wrong contact. Sorry—"

"Who were you trying to call?" Ianto asked, cutting him off mid-apology.

"Dr Harper," the man answered, "Dr Owen Harper."

"He's probably still working," Ianto said, "but I know him."

"Can you give me his number?"

Ianto considered. "What's your name?"

There was a pause; a significant one if Ianto was superstitious like that. "Jack Harkness."

A sudden burst of pain behind Ianto's eyes stunned him for a moment; the phone slipped from his fingers and clattered into the gutter.

_Jack_.

-T-

Jack frowned. "Hello?" he asked. The other end of the line was silent. "Ianto?"

_Funny coincidence, that name_, he thought distractedly,_ too many Ianto Joneses in Cardiff_.

He sighed and flicked an impatient glance at the clock over the door, growling under his breath when he realised he would be late home.

A knock sounded at the door; Sylvia looked in, barely managing to hide a smug smirk as she took in his irritation. Jack wondered why he was always the one stuck with disrespectful employees. _Surely most headmasters don't get this_.

"Any luck?" she asked, faux-polite.

"None," he said, not bothering to keep the grumpiness out of his tone. "It's a wrong number."

Sylvia shrugged, widening her eyes in pretend sympathy. "Well, we can always try Ms. Sato," she said. "I'm sure that they wouldn't make it impossible to contact them."

"Why haven't we discovered this before?" Jack demanded. "Surely there've been checks?"

Sylvia spread her hands in a 'what can one say?' gesture. Jack noticed, sidetracked for a second, hat she had forgotten to put eye-make-up on her left eye. _That's unlike her. What's going on?_

"I want you to contact Ms. Sato," he ordered. "I'm taking a call."

She raised her eyebrow but didn't object, and withdrew from the office.

Jack picked up the phone again; luckily, the call hadn't been disconnected. "Hello? You there?" he asked, and was relieved when he heard a weak affirmative. "What happened?" he pressed, anxious. "Are you okay? Should I phone for an ambulance?"

"No, I'm fine," the Welshman said, sounding shaken.

"What happened?" _Why do I care so much?_

"Just had a dizzy spell and dropped the phone," came the reply.

"You _sure_ you're okay?"

"You sound like my girlfriend," he said, sounding tiredly amused.

"What's her name?" Jack didn't know why he wanted to know. He just asked before he realised what he was saying.

"Lisa." A pause. "She teaches at the Grammar."

"I know here." _Maybe _don't_ tell him that he's chatting to his girlfriend's boss…_

"You're the headmaster, right?" Ianto sounded curious.

_So much for not telling him_, Jack thought ruefully. "Yeah, that's me."

"An American teaching in Cardiff?"

Jack smiled. "You have no idea how many times I've heard that," he informed the Welshman. "I live here with my partner."

"What's their name?" Ianto didn't seem nosy, just curious.

Jack chuckled. "Believe it or not, he's called Ianto Jones too."

"We're common as muck," the Ianto down the phone said with relish. "Like rats."

Jack grinned. "Like small children."

"I'm offended," Ianto laughed.

"No, you aren't." Jack felt a twinge of surprise as he realised that he was chatting away to a complete stranger as if they'd known each other for years.

"No, I'm not," Ianto agreed, "but I really should be getting along."

"Sorry for keeping you," Jack said. "Nice talking."

"Bye."

Only when the drone of the disconnected call complained in his ear did he realise that he'd never asked for Dr Harper's contact.

-T-

That night, Ianto dreamed that he was standing on the top of a cliff by the sea, the rosy horizon stretching out in front of him and the scent of brine strong in the air.

Beneath his feet, the turf was springy; sea-lavender mixed amongst the short grass like common weeds.

Warm arms wrapped around his waist and held him close against a muscular body. A voice breathed in his air – a voice with an American accent – and soft lips kissed his neck.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jack murmured. "Just look at that sunrise."

"It's going to be stormy later," Ianto said.

Jack chuckled, the vibrations rumbling right through Ianto's body. "That's so Welsh."

"That's so practical," Ianto retorted, smiling.

Jack just laughed again, not saying anything in response. They stood there, Jack with his chin resting on Ianto's shoulder and his arms encircling Ianto's waist in a possessive ring.

"We really should be getting back to Cardiff," Ianto said, not making a move to get away.

"We should," Jack agreed, "or poor Tosh might well be driven insane by Gwen and Owen's bickering."

Ianto closed his eyes and breathed deeply, relishing the clean scent of the air and sea. "How did you find here?"

Ianto never got to hear Jack's reply. As at that time a sharp peal ripped through his dream, an impatient voice of reality.

Groggily, he flopped out an arm and fumbled for the 'sleep' button on his alarm clock. "Bloody thing," he muttered.

Lisa's side of the bed looked unslept-in, the sheets cool. Ianto frowned; hadn't she come home last night?

He rubbed a hand over his face, grimacing as his palm rasped against the stubble. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and was about to wander into the bathroom for a shower and shave when the phone rang.

"Hello, Ianto Jones."

"Mr Jones, this is St. Helen's Hospital. We're afraid that Miss Hallet has been admitted to the emergency—"

"What the hell happened?" Ianto demanded, interrupting. "How is she?"

There was a pause, one that seemed to stretch on for infinity to Ianto, before the answer came. "It's better if you come and see for yourself."

-T-

Jack strode down the corridor, fuming. _Typical_, he thought bitterly, _even being the headmaster makes no difference when you're talking to a doctor. _

As he passed an open door, he heard somebody asking desperately, "…will be okay, won't she?"

Jack stopped. "Ianto?"

The young man standing by the empty bed looked the spitting image of Jack's partner – save for the blue eyes. "Do I know you?"

"Now that's just freaky," Jack blurted before he could stop himself.

The young man stared at him in surprise, having recognised his voice. "Ja— Mr Harkness!" he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. "I…what are you doing here?"

It took Jack a moment to realise that Ianto was speaking to him. "I had to talk to Dr Harper," he said quickly, hoping that Ianto hadn't noticed him staring.

Ianto's eyes widened. "Oh – I forgot to give you his number," he said in horror. "I'm  
so—"

"I just went through his wife," Jack said, cutting him off. "You might know her – Toshiko—"

"Sato," Ianto finished for him. He smiled, almost sheepishly. "She used to be my next-door-neighbour."

"Oh." Jack couldn't think of anything else to say. He swallowed. "I…uh…so what are you doing here?"

Ianto face almost crumpled. He looked away, biting his lip. "My girlfriend's been in an accident."

Jack blinked. "I…I'm sorry. How is she?"

Ianto shrugged, still looking down at the linoleum. He toed at a crack, hands in his pockets and face carefully blank. "They can't say yet. She's in surgery."

Jack automatically reached out and touched his arm. "She'll be fine. I'm sure of it," he said, giving his arm a quick squeeze.

"I hope so," Ianto murmured. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

"I know the feeling."

Ianto flopped onto the chair by the foot of the bed, and dropped his head into his hands. He let out a sad sigh, his baby-blue eyes downcast.

Jack pulled up another chair and sat next to him. "I'll wait with you," he said. It wasn't a question. "Everybody needs a friend at times like these."

-T-

Gwen pushed her dripping fringe out of her eyes and wriggled uncomfortably on the hard seat of the cockpit. The Doctor, at the wheel, was quiet and untalkative, his striking face drawn and tired.

"I still think we should have given them another week," Gwen said half-heartedly.

Martha flicked her a cursory glance, her face upturned to the rain. "It's been three weeks, Gwen. We have to accept that they're not coming back."

"There aren't any readings," Toshiko added. Her blue anorak hood was pulled up over her head, her hands buried deep within its pockets.

The boat lurched, and would have thrown Gwen to the floor had Owen not caught her. The engine throbbed beneath their feet, and the orange VHF radio buzzed like a bee trapped behind a window.

"How much longer?" Donna asked.

Owen checked his watch. "Ten hours."

"I still don't get why skinny-boy here couldn't just whizz us home in the TARDIS," Donna said. She huddled down further into her anorak, a curl of ginger hair escaping from beneath her hood.

The Doctor didn't even look around at them. "It's better this way."

"But not as easy," Donna retorted. She brushed the damp curl off her forehead with an impatient flick of a hand. "If this is some stupid thing about Jack, then—"

"It's got nothing to do with the captain," the Doctor said tersely.

"What, then?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Donna shook her head. "There he goes again."

Gwen's ass was turning numb. She wriggled again, wishing that there was some way of speeding up the journey. "Maybe we should just leave him for a bit," she suggested. "Play I-Spy, or something."

Toshiko's face fell. "Maybe something other than I-Spy?" she said quietly, her voice almost lost in the wind that tugged at their clothing. The mast rattled. "After all…"

Gwen's eyes widened. "I forgot."

"Or we could try doing something else entirely," Owen said, "other than bloody kids' games."

"Shut up, Owen," Gwen said testily. "I'm only trying to help."

"Well, _don't_."

"Fine, then. We can just sit here and be bored for the day," Gwen snapped.

"S'better than listening to you witter on—"

"For goodness' sake, stop _bickering_," Martha said angrily. "I know that you're missing Jack and Ianto – we all are – but that's no excuse to be at each others' throats all the time!"

"We're not—"

"What makes you say—?"

"_Shut up!_" Toshiko ground out, effectively cutting them both off. They both stared at her in shock.

"Sorry?" Gwen asked, startled.

Tosh took off her glasses, the lenses misted with condensation, and glared at them. "Your arguing isn't going to help anything," she said, voice wound tight. "We need to carry on trying to find them, not turn on each other about every little thing!"

"Sorry." Gwen shifted in her seat again, feeling uncomfortably like she was back in school, being told-off for talking in class.

"You're right," Owen admitted grudgingly, "but there isn't exactly much else we can do."

Toshiko fished inside her anorak pocket and pulled out a PDA, the sensitive piece of equipment wrapped in a waterproof covering. "I've been running a trace on Jack's… Jack-ness, whatever it is—"

"Technobbable, that – love it," Owen said.

"—and I'm yet to get the exact results through, but it's giving off some weird readings."

"Like what?" Martha asked.

"Jack seems to be in some sort of time-bubble, or something similar – the readings can't quite get—" Toshiko was interrupted by a bleat from her PDA. She slid out the stylus and tapped at the screen, a frown of concentration creasing her forehead. "No, I was wrong – they're not in a time-bubble, but rather some sort of mind-hold."

The Doctor looked around at her. "Mind-hold?" he repeated. His hair was dark with rain, plastered to his forehead. He had refused an anorak, for what reasons Gwen hadn't a clue.

"Mind-hold," she confirmed. "I haven't got a trace on where they are, exactly, but it's somewhere in the Channel Islands—"

"So we should stay there!" Gwen said, exasperated. "Like I've been telling you for _hours_—"

"—and to get a clearer idea of what's happened to them, I really need the equipment back at the Hub," Tosh said, ignoring her. She waved the PDA at them, water droplets flying off the plastic casing. "This isn't powerful enough."

"What about the TARDIS?" Donna asked.

The Doctor shook his head, eyes unreadable. "She can't track Jack."

"Why not?" Owen asked. "If this is about the 'wrong' thing again, then—"

"You wouldn't understand," the Doctor said, cutting him off. Gwen shivered at the iciness of his voice. "It's complicated."

"I'm not a bloody idiot," Owen said.

"Try us," Gwen added, pushing back her fringe again and glaring at the timelord. "I think you'll find that we understand a lot more than you seem to think."

The Doctor stared at her for a minute, eyes dark; Gwen couldn't even fathom what was flashing through his mind. "Well, then," he said slowly. "You'd better sit still and listen carefully…"


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Doctor paused before starting, a haunted look on his features. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket, aiming it at the AutoPilot, still staying silent as the end glowed blue and the rain fizzed around it.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked cautiously.

"Setting up the AutoPilot," the Doctor replied, his tone deceptively casual.

"You can just press the button, y'know," Owen said. "Like normal people do."

The Doctor grinned at him, although Gwen could see that it was a fake, forced smile. "Where's the fun in that?"

Gwen waited. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Explanation?"

"Oh … explanation. Yeah." The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, sitting down on the other side of the boat and stowing his sonic screwdriver back in his suit-jacket pocket. "I can't really say much, timelines and all that, but I'm _pretty_ certain that Jack and Ianto take care of themselves."

"How can you say for certain?" Gwen challenged. "They might not be able to take care of themselves. They might need us to—"

"I _know_ that they look after themselves," the Doctor said. "If we did anything, it could mess around with timelines."

"So you'd sacrifice them both because you didn't want to take a risk?" Donna asked incredulously.

"A risk that, if the worst happened, could potentially destroy the universe," the Doctor said bitterly. "Believe me – if there was anything I could do, I'd be doing it."

"So we just…do what, exactly?" Gwen asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Wait. Hope."

"Why can't you just get in the TARDIS and whizz to when they return?" Donna frowned.

The Doctor hesitated again; Gwen imagined he was choosing his words very carefully. "It would…complicate matters."

_I guess that's the best we're going to get out of him, _Gwen thought ruefully_. But at least he seems confident that Jack and Ianto are alright._

_I just hope that he isn't making it up to make us feel better. _

-T-

Ianto was going to wear through the floor if he paced for much longer, Jack was certain. He sat in his chair, watching the younger man walk up and down, up and down, until he felt tired simply from watching.

"Ianto, relax," he tried again. "Getting yourself into a panic isn't going to help matters."

Ianto swung around to face him, eyes wild. "What am I supposed to do?" he spat. "Just sit and wait? Why the hell should I do that?" He ran an agitated hand through his hair, ruffling it in a way eerily similar to Jack's partner. "I can't, Jack. I _can't_. I…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

Jack got up, the chair creaking as he did so, and touched Ianto's arm. "There isn't anything you can do, but getting like this is certainly only going to make things worse."

Ianto's shoulders sagged. He almost fell into Jack's vacated chair, like a boneless rubber doll. "What do I do?"

Jack's heart broke at the desolation in Ianto's voice. "You cope," he told him quietly. "You stay strong. For her."

Ianto nodded slowly, still staring at the floor. "You're right," he said quietly, in nearly a whisper. He looked up. "You're right," he repeated, stronger this time. "I have to stay strong for her. For Lisa."

Jack smiled sadly. "That's the idea."

The door banged open. A group of nurses and porters wheeled a trolley through; Ianto rushed to help them lift Lisa onto the bed, his face white.

Jack felt cold dread clutch at him as he saw the young woman's body swathed in bandages. A metal neck-brace supported her head; wires snaked from every possible crevice. She had so many machines hooked up to her that she looked more metal than flesh.

He heard a pained gasp from Ianto; when he looked at the young man, Jack saw that his face was contorted, his eyes screwed shut and his hands clutching his head.

"Ianto?" he asked quietly, feeling out-of-place.

Ianto was muttering under his breath, his voice low-pitched and feverish, "Nononononono—"

"_Ianto_," Jack tried again, still to no avail.

"Not again…" Ianto moaned. "Please, God, not again."

Jack reached out cautiously and laid a hand on Ianto's shoulder. A flicker of hurt flashed into life when Ianto flinched away from him, wrapping his arms around his torso and scrunching his eyes closed.

"Ianto, talk to me," Jack said. "What's wrong?"

Ianto shook his head, still not opening his eyes. "Not again – what did I do wrong? God, _please_…"

"What do you mean, 'not again'?" Jack demanded. "Has this happened before?"

Ianto stiffened and looked at the bed again. "This can't be happening," he whispered, his face grey. "Lisa's dead. She died long ago."

"Ianto, what are you talking about?"

"What am I doing here?" Ianto unwrapped his arms from around himself and pointed at Lisa. "Lisa can't be here. She died at Canary Wharf. I _know_ that."

"Calm down," Jack said. "Ianto, you're not thinking straight. Canary Wharf was a bombing in London. You're in Cardiff. Neither of you were in London." He reached out again, and was surprised when Ianto held him in a vice-like hug. Cautiously, he stroked Ianto's hair, still marvelling at the similarities between this man and his partner. "Lisa's your girlfriend. Remember?"

Ianto shook his head, face buried in Jack's shoulder and hands clutching at his shirt. "Lisa's dead. I work for Torchwood in Cardiff. I hunt aliens. So do you." He looked up at Jack, tear-tracks staining his cheeks. "Don't you remember, Jack?"

Jack's breath caught in his throat. "Ianto…" he murmured. "I think you need to sit down. Have a cup of tea. You're in shock."

"I'm not in shock," Ianto argued, still not releasing his death-grip on Jack's shirt. "You can ask me anything about you and I'll be able to answer."

"So could a stalker," Jack replied drily.

Ianto's blue gaze never wavered. "Try me."

Jack let out a tired laugh. "Fine. But I still think you're in shock."

Ianto didn't even blink.

Jack sighed. "How do I like my coffee?"

"That's easy," Ianto scoffed. "Black, with three sugars. Industrial strength." He smiled, as if remembering some fond memories. "I always tell you that you'll rot your teeth."

Jack sucked in air through his teeth, thinking. "Do I like cabbage?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "No. You say that it tastes like washing-up water. Not like you ever do the washing-up, anyway." He paused. "Except for on my birthday."

Jack frowned. "Okay, that's slightly freaky." _I did that for _my_ Ianto on his birthday, too_.

"Do you believe me now?"

"No," Jack said honestly. "I still think you need a lie-down and a drink."

Ianto groaned and pulled away, scrubbing at his face. He deliberately didn't look at the woman in the bed. "How can I prove it to you?"

"Well, you can explain to me why any of this," he gestured to the room, "is happening if what you say is true."

Ianto frowned. "I haven't worked that bit out quite yet."

"See?" Jack said. "You're in shock." He held out a hand, which Ianto took grudgingly. "C'mon. Let's get you sorted."

His mobile buzzed in his pocket. He checked the caller ID on his phone, swearing softly when he saw that it was Ianto.

"Jack, where are you?" Ianto demanded. "It's nearly eight!"

Jack closed his eyes. _God give me strength,_ he prayed silently. "I know, and I'm sorry. One of the staff's been in an accident – I'm at the hospital with her now."

"Who?" Ianto asked, sounding worried.

"Lisa Hallet," Jack said. "I'm trying to calm her boyfriend at the moment."

"Is she badly hurt?"

Jack sucked in a trembling breath. He shot a look over at the other Ianto, who was staring blankly at a sprawling pot-plant in the corner. "I…I don't know. But you'll never believe this – her boyfriend could be your doppelganger." Jack grinned, despite the situation. "Seriously – he's called Ianto Jones and everything."

"We're common as muck," Ianto commented drolly.

Jack's breath hitched in his throat; his heart nearly stopped beating for a second. "That's just freaky," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "He said exactly the same thing."

His partner laughed. "Great minds think alike?"

"Or fools seldom differ," Jack said, his grin stretching wider.

"Are you insulting me?"

"Who, me?" Jack asked innocently. "Nah, never."

"Watch it," Ianto said, sounding amused. "How much longer will you be?"

Jack sighed, checking his watch. "I'm sorry – I really couldn't say." He flicked a look over at the blue-eyed Ianto. "I think he's in shock – keeps on talking like he knows me."

"What sort of things is he talking about?" Curiosity laced Ianto's voice; Jack didn't need to see him to know that he was raising his eyebrows.

"Some really weird stuff…" Jack hesitated. "The thing is…he knows stuff. About me."

"What d'you mean?"

Jack shook his head, momentarily forgetting that Ianto couldn't see him. "How I take my coffee. The only occasion I've ever done the washing-up. Stuff like that."

The other end of the line was silent for a heartbeat. "D'you want me to come?"

Jack glanced at the other Ianto. "I'll be fine. Sorry about dinner."

"It isn't a problem - give my best wishes to Lisa, when she wakes up. Love you." Ianto rang off before Jack could echo the sentiment, leaving Jack feeling lonely as he clutched the mobile.

"Are you okay?" the other Ianto, the one with the blue eyes, asked. He sounded so much like his partner that Jack nearly spilled everything, but the innocent blue eyes were enough to remind him that this young man _wasn't_ his partner and was most likely in shock – or loony.

"Fine," he said tightly. "You feeling better?"

"I'm not in shock," Ianto said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, Jack, I would have thought that you of all people would remember Torchwood."

Jack frowned. "Torchwood?" he asked. Why _do I feel like I've heard that before…?_

"Torchwood." Ianto folded his arms, almost defensively. It was like he was trying to protect himself – from what, Jack didn't know. "Our job."

It was like he was only half-remembering something. "In Cardiff Bay?"

"More like under."

Jack blinked. "What?"

Ianto chuckled, although what was so amusing Jack hadn't a clue. "The Hub's underground, underneath the water tower."

"Underneath the water—? Come off it – that's just not possible," Jack said.

Ianto sighed, as if it were obvious. "There's an invisible lift," he said.

Jack bristled at his tone; it sounded as if he were talking to a rather dim toddler. "Of _course_," he said. "Why didn't I realise that before?"

"It's all true, y'know," Ianto said, looking at Jack with a quiet intensity in his lagoon-blue eyes. "I'm not crazy."

"I don't think you are," Jack lied. "Let's get you a cup of tea."

Ianto wrinkled his nose. "I'm not drinking anything from here," he said. "Owen says it tastes like piss – and although I wouldn't put it quite so eloquently, I have to agree."

Jack frowned. "Owen?"

"Owen Harper. He's the doctor for Torchwood," Ianto said. "Swears a lot, stroppy all the time?"

Jack snorted. "Dr Harper works _here_," he said, "although I admit he's very much like how you described him."

Ianto shook his head. "Jack… why won't you believe me?" His eyes looked despondent, lost, like those of a child entering the room for an exam.

Jack touched his arm. "Because it isn't _true_," he said gently. "You're in shock – your girlfriend's just been in a bad accident – and you're not thinking straight."

Ianto pulled away from him, his expression upset. "I'm not crazy," he insisted. "I _know_ that it's true."

"Isn't that what they all think?" Jack said without thinking. "It's not like there's any proof of what you say."

Ianto froze, as if an idea had struck him. "I know a way to prove to you that I'm talking the truth," he said excitedly. "Stick out your arm."

Uncertainly, Jack held out his left arm.

"_Other_ arm."

"Why?" Jack asked, curiosity warring with caution. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing bad, I promise," Ianto said, eyes sparkling. "Just do it."

Jack let him push up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a brown leather wrist-strap. "I've never seen that before," he said, frowning.

"It's your Vortex Manipulator," Ianto said. "You used to use it to travel through time before the Doctor dismantled it."

"Okay…" Jack said slowly. "I still don't know, though. You could have slipped it on me without me noticing."

Ianto gave him a 'yeah, right' look. "You want more proof?" he demanded.

"What else have you got up your sleeve – or rather, _my_ sleeve?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Bad joke. _Really_ bad joke."

"Sorry." Jack grinned. "Go on, then – convince me."

And Ianto pulled him into a ferocious kiss, one that sent shocks through Jack's body from his head to his toes, one that started his heart pounding like he had just sprinted a mile, and left his breathless and gasping when Ianto drew back.

"What the—?" He put a hand to his head in shock as images started flooding through his head. It was as if a dam had been burst, releasing a tidal wave of memories and emotions.

Ianto caught him as his knees crumpled beneath him, cradling him in his arms as he would a baby or small child, and stroking away the tears streaming down Jack's cheeks with gentle, long fingers. "Ssh…" he murmured.

"Ianto…" Jack whispered, reaching up a hand to touch the Welshman's face. "I'm sorry."

Ianto smiled, though his eyes looked distinctly wet. "Nothing to be sorry for." He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears. "You're back now. Though we're still stuck here."

Jack didn't say anything. How could he tell his real lover that part of him wanted to stay here, with the fake version of him? Even worse, it was a rather large part…how could he?

"You okay?" Ianto murmured, still cradling Jack close.

Jack nodded, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. "Yeah. Just…memories. Y'know."

He felt Ianto's nod, and a fresh flood of tears threatened as the Welshman shifted on the floor to hold him even closer, and kissed him on the forehead. How could he hurt him like that?

He didn't know how long they sat there like that, in the middle of a corridor on the second floor of St Helen's Hospital in the centre of Cardiff. In more than one way he was stuck in the middle; how could he hurt either of the Iantos? He wanted desperately to believe that the green-eyed Ianto wasn't real, was simply a plant to stop him leaving…but something in his heart was telling him otherwise.

"Jack?" a voice asked. "What are you doing?"

Jack looked up to see the other Ianto staring at him with hurt green eyes. "Ianto."

"What are you doing?" Ianto asked again.

The _real_ Ianto frowned. "He's worked out what's real. He's remembered."

"What?"

"It's true," Jack said. He couldn't bring himself to speak his 'partner's' name again. "This isn't real. None of this is real."

"Of course it's real," green-eyed Ianto said in confusion. "What are you talking about? Are you okay?" He glared at blue-eyed Ianto with unconcealed suspicion. "What have you done to him?"

"I haven't done anything," Ianto said, his accent gravelly with anger. "It's _you_ who's tricked him and lied to him."

"I never did anything of the sort!"

"We're leaving now," blue-eyed Ianto said, helping Jack up. "And believe me – you'll regret ever laying a finger on him."

"He's my _partner!_" the other Ianto exploded, emerald eyes flashing. "It's you who'll regret it!"

"He's not your partner – he doesn't even belong here!" Ianto hissed.

Jack followed Ianto blindly through the nearest door and down the concrete staircase, concentrating on not tripping over his feet as they went. He didn't know what to think – what had just happened? The other Ianto was hurt, no doubt, and angry. He didn't know that Jack didn't belong in his world; to him, their life was completely real.

Ianto cast him a look. "You're not feeling guilty, are you?" he asked incredulously. "He's not even real!"

"He's real," Jack said quietly, "and I just hurt him."

Ianto stopped before the door to the outside. The paint was peeling and discoloured, the window cracked into a spider's web of fragments. "Do you wish you hadn't remembered?" he asked in a low voice, not meeting Jack's gaze.

Jack looked away. He couldn't answer.

-T-

Ianto simply stared at the door through which his blue-eyed doppelganger had dragged Jack. _What the hell's going on?_ he thought numbly, still reeling in shock. _Half an hour I was waiting for Jack, at home with a bottle of champagne and lasagne. How can this be happening now?_

He took a deep breath, fighting down his emotion, and laid a trembling hand on the cold metal handle. He had to do this. For Jack. _God, Jack…why?_ No, this wasn't his Jack…this was something the other Ianto had done. It had to be. Jack would never hurt him like that.

_Then why do I feel so uncertain?_

The cold air of the stairwell hit him hard, as if he had just opened the fridge on a hot day. Ianto shivered involuntarily, remembering his and Jack's holiday in Barcelona. They had resorted to sticking their heads in the fridge in a desperate attempt to keep cool.

That had been their first holiday together; since then they had been all over the world: Egypt, Norway, Germany, Ireland (the landlady hadn't warned them about the thin walls; Ianto didn't think he would ever be able to set foot there again), and more countries than he could count on both hands.

His footsteps echoed emptily as he started down the steps. He froze; had Jack and the other Ianto heard him?

He could hear them talking, further down. It was odd to hear his own voice when he wasn't even speaking; how did the blue-eyed Ianto imitate that so perfectly? What else could he do, what else did he know?

What else did he have planned? _Please, _please_ don't hurt Jack…_

"…not real, Jack," his doppelganger was saying earnestly. "You need to remember that. This is all something the aliens dreamed up to try and stop us."

"He seems real." A pause. "No, he _is_ real."

Ianto felt a warm, golden something pool in his stomach, like he had just eaten a spoonful of honey. _Jack…come on, fight it! I know you can do it, I know you're strong enough. Please, Jack…_

"How is that possible, Jack?" Ianto asked. "This is all fake. He can't be real in a fake world."

"We're real. We're in this world."

The other Ianto sighed. "I'm not the Doctor. I don't know." He sighed. "I just want to get through this," his voice sounded subdued, tired.

"Then—"

"Goddamit, Jack!" the blue-eyed Ianto exploded. "I don't _know! _I don't have the answers – I don't think we even know the questions!" He laughed hollowly. "How can I convince you that this isn't where we belong?"

"Make me feel certain," Jack said. "Make me feel alive."

Ianto's stomach lurched as he realised what Jack was begging the other man for. _Please don't, Jack…please…don't do this to me. You promised. _

Ianto touched the gold band around his left hand's third finger and tried to think of something other than the fact that his partner was asking another man for something he usually asked Ianto for. For something that should only be Ianto's to give.

A rustle and a gasp; Ianto clenched his fists as he heard the unmistakeable sound of them kissing. _It isn't really Jack, _he reminded himself_, he isn't in his right mind._

Ianto wanted to stop listening, to make it all go away. But he could still hear them kissing. _What did I do to deserve this?_

"Which felt more real?" his doppelganger demanded fiercely, his accent ragged and breathless. "My kiss or his kiss?"

Ianto held his breath. He couldn't believe that they couldn't hear his heart thumping erratically in his chest. For one of the first times in his life, Ianto prayed to a God that he didn't believe in. _Make this all go away, God. Please – I'll do anything. Just make it not real._

"I…I don't know," Jack said finally, quietly.

Silence from the other Ianto. "Thanks," he then said, sounding hurt. "Really good for my ego."

Jack chuckled. "Oh, don't underestimate your kissing ability," he said. "Just…he _is_ you."

"He's got green eyes," Ianto said. "And I bet there are numerous other differences. Aliens hardly ever get it right."

"You said it," Jack said. "He doesn't like coffee, either."

"Travesty!" blue-eyed Ianto gasped in mock-horror. "Not liking coffee?"

Jack laughed. Ianto felt as if his heart was being clutched in a cold iron gauntlet and gradually being squeezed tighter and tighter…that laugh was the one that Jack reserved for him, the one that only _he_ got to hear when he'd done something funny or 'cute'.

And now this impersonator had it. Had Jack.

Ianto bit his lip, fighting to keep back tears that were threatening to blind him. _Just think of good stuff, _he reminded himself. _Like when the two of you went for a walk on the beach at sunset, and Jack told you the stories of the stars in the dark skies above. And then he made up the ones he didn't know, featuring the two of you saving the world numerous times. _

"There's nothing to worry about," Ianto's doppelganger said firmly. "Anyway, enough moping – we need to get a move on and get back."

Ianto nearly fell down the stairs in his desperation to follow them. _I can't lose him. I gave up everything for him – I can't let him do this. _

-T-

Three weeks. Three days. Three hours.

That's how long it's been since Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness went missing. Well, maybe she was making up the hours part – they had no way of knowing how long it had been exactly.

It felt like far longer; three months – three years, even. It felt like forever, in Gwen's opinion. It felt _wrong_. Everything was wrong; the Doctor was here, Jack and Ianto were gone, the case hadn't been solved…everything was just _wrong_.

But _oh_, how good it felt to be in Rhys' arms again. Like she was safe, and everything else would magically go away.

Like _home_.

"I got your message," he said. "Are you alright?"

She forced a smile, nodding; her throat had a lump in it too big for her to speak.

He kissed her on the forehead, holding her close. Gwen tucked her head under his chin and snuggled against him unashamedly, simply glad that he was there.

"You said a week," he chided. "I've been worried sick about you, out—" He cut himself off when he saw her face. "We'll find them, love. However long it takes, we'll find them."

She nodded. She had to believe that. If she didn't… if she didn't, she'd be like a boat without a sail, drifting loose on an open sea. "Yeah."

"In the meantime, however, I've cooked my special - Bolognese _a la_ Rhys – for your homecoming," he said. His eyes were crinkled up, his face beaming. She almost felt guilty for being sad whilst he was so happy. "You need some TLC, I think."

"Yeah," she agreed again. "That sounds lovely." She bit her lip and looked away, at Tosh and Owen sitting side-by-side on a bench. "But I really have to help—"

"No."

"What?" Gwen jerked back, staring at him in surprise.

"I said no," Rhys repeated, gently grasping her chin and tipping her head to look at him. "You're exhausted and emotional – you need to come home with me and just unwind."

"But I—"

"Discussion's _over_," he said gently, letting her go with a brisk kiss on the lips.

Gwen looked over at her friends, the only two remaining members of her team, and smiled as she saw Owen carefully take Toshiko's hand. "You're right," she said, hooking her arm through her husband's. "Let's go home."

-T-

The Doctor frowned at the metal helmet, his long, nimble fingers darting skilfully to hook it up to Toshiko's computer.

"Are you sure that this is going to work?" Tosh asked, her eyes watching him anxiously.

"Nope!" The Doctor grinned. "But that makes it even more fun, don't you think?"

Owen folded his arms, his expression doubtful and untrusting. "What if it goes wrong? We haven't got fixed co-ordinates – just setting it to hone in on Jack might not be enough."

"But it's all we've got," the Doctor said grimly, "and I've got to give it a shot."

"How are you going to get them back, though?" Toshiko asked. "Just getting into Jack's mind might not be enough."

The Doctor paused. "Well, as far as the TARDIS can tell, these aliens are a hive race – they connect minds," he said. "So if I can get into Jack's mind, then he and Ianto will be connected and I can get to Ianto, too."

"Is there _anything_ else we can do?" Tosh asked, biting her lip. "Programs we can run, information we can find?"

"Nope. Sorry." The Doctor gave one last yank on one of the wires and stood back. "There we go. I need you to press the 'enter' key when I say." He waited for her to nod before continuing, "I can then, hopefully, get into Jack's mind and drag him out."

"So, one last time," Owen said carefully, "you're going to basically get a mind-hold on Jack, who in turn has a hold on Ianto, so that when you get dragged out, they will too."

"That's about it, yeah," the Doctor agreed. "But they'll be in the Channel Islands, not here." He hesitated. "If they're both alive, that is."

"The hospital said that Ianto had a couple of months," Toshiko said hopefully. "He should be fine."

"A couple of months _with_ the medication," Owen pointed out, crossing his arms. "Ianto hasn't had the medication for nearly four weeks."

"All the same…" she trailed off, shrugging. "I'm just not giving up on them, that's all."

The Doctor reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "That's it," he said encouragingly. "Never give up – every cloud has a silver lining, as they say." Owen looked disbelieving, but the Doctor quickly picked up the helmet and sat down in a chair. "Well, then," he said with a mock-salute. "Let's get to work."

-T-

Ianto and Jack were leaning against the railings overlooking the Bay. To Jack, it felt odd to know that the Hub _wasn't_ just a few feet beneath them, underneath the water tower, but he didn't voice as much to Ianto. _He's been through enough recently. _

"So how d'you think's the best way out?" Ianto asked after a few minutes of companionable silence. "I was wondering if dying—"

"Forget it," Jack said, his stomach clenching. "It's too much of a risk."

Ianto opened his mouth to argue, then nodded and kept quiet. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes as striking as if an artist had taken a brush and purple paint to his face; his jay-feather blue eyes were blood-shot and irritated. Jack felt the familiar surge of protectiveness in his gut, but fought it down – Ianto wouldn't appreciate it if he told him to go and have a lie-down.

"Jack!"

Jack whirled around to see the Doctor racing across the Plass towards them. "Doctor?"

The Doctor skidded to a halt a couple of metres away and stared at Ianto in delight. "Ianto Jones! Good to see that you're still in the land of the living."

"What d'you mean?" Ianto asked, frowning. "We've only been away a couple of days, at the most."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh, that's smart…" he said admiringly. "Time's running slower for you."

Jack didn't like the sound of that. "How long has it been for you?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Three weeks, four days," he admitted, "and about six hours."

"What about Ianto's medication?" Jack asked, fear clawing at his gut.

"The hospital are going to be out of their minds," Ianto observed. "Sister Kate probably thinks you abducted me."

"All taken care of," the Doctor said easily. "Toshiko fixed it up so it looks like you had an emergency transfer to St Helen's in Cardiff."

"What about Rhi?"

"Who?"

"Rhiannon Evans, my sister," Ianto said, a hand flying to his hair as it always did when he was worrying. "What've you told her?"

The Doctor stared at him, bewildered. "I wasn't aware that you had a sister," he said. "I guess Toshiko must have fixed something up." He shrugged. "Anyway, I need to get you two out of here."

"You can get us out?" Jack asked, unconsciously shifting closer to Ianto. For that matter, how did you get in?"

"I'll explain later," the Doctor said, waving dismissively. "For now, all you need to know is that the aliens are a hive-mind—"

"There were lots of brains in a tank," Ianto interrupted. "Are they the aliens, too?"

"What d'you mean?"

"There were lots of brains in a tank that attacked us," Ianto said. "And there were the fish-people."

The Doctor frowned. "Oh. That's…" He shrugged and sniffed. "That's no problem. As soon as we're out, I'll nip over in the TARDIS to bail you out."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. Jack guessed he was thinking along the same lines as Jack. "Doctor, much as that sounds like a good idea, you aren't the most reliable of people," Jack began, trying to sound diplomatic and, by the looks on their faces, failing miserably. _Sod it_. "What I'm trying to say is that it might be better for us to just manage by ourselves," he said.

The Doctor's face was a picture. "I'm perfectly reliable!" he spluttered.

"Three weeks late, remember? Rose was a year late?" Jack shook his head. "We'll be fine."

The Doctor looked a bit like a toddler who's had his favourite toy taken away from him. "But—"

"Can we save this all for later?" Ianto said. If Jack didn't know him better, he would have thought that the Welshman sounded testy. "As it is, we're wasting time and I don't have that long."

"Oh. Yeah. Right, sorry," the Doctor said. "We all need to hold hands and hopefully Tosh will work her magic."

"When will—?" Ianto began to ask, but then they were being pulled up, away from the Bay, away from this world and out into…_light._


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

The first thing that Ianto was aware of when he opened his eyes was the blinding grin of Captain Jack Harkness.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

Ianto struggled to sit up, and realised that he was lying in a pool of water. "It worked, then?"

"Yup." Jack was still grinning. "Even better, there's no sign of the aliens."

"Oh my God," a weak voice said from behind them. They spun around, Ianto staggering to his feet, to see green-eyed Ianto staring about the stark white room in horror. "Where am I? What just happened?"

_Shit_. This wasn't looking good, Ianto decided. "This is the real world," he finally settled on saying.

Green-eyed Ianto looked… green. "So you were speaking the truth," he said faintly.

Ianto spared a glance at Jack, who had a very odd expression on his face.

"I think this proves the debate as to whether he's real or not," Jack said, his voice sounding strangled.

"But it doesn't explain why he's _here_," Ianto retorted.

Jack blinked, surprised. "He's you, that's why. It locked onto him, too."

"That's useful," Ianto said dryly. "One way of getting the paperwork done quicker."

Jack smiled. "I can think of some other—"

"No, Jack," both Iantos said in synch.

Jack pulled a face. "It wouldn't even be a threesome – not really."

"Believe me, it would be," G-Ianto said.

"Even I have my limits," Ianto added, then frowned. "Or should that be 'we'?"

"Don't bother confusing yourself," G-Ianto advised. "Already been there, done that."

"And got the t-shirt?" Ianto said, amused.

"Quite a horrible colour," G-Ianto said, face carefully deadpan. "Would much rather have a nice tie."

"Owen's gonna love this," Jack commented. "Double the sarcasm."

G-Ianto grinned, then suddenly looked upset. "Does this mean that all my memories are false?" he asked quietly. "Was my entire life a lie?"

Neither of the other two replied. Then Ianto said, "It was real. To you, it was real."

"But I'm just a copy," G-Ianto said quietly.

"You're not a copy," Jack said heatedly. "You look different, for a start—"

"Just my eyes."

"—and you don't like coffee—"

"That's hardly a difference." G-Ianto looked down, at the rippling puddle on the floor.

"Believe me, it is," Ianto said seriously.

"You've got different memories, too," Jack added forcefully. "You're a different person."

"A special person," Ianto pressed.

"'I think, therefore I am' ring any bells?" Jack asked.

G-Ianto nodded.

"Do you feel like a normal person?" Ianto unconsciously echoed Gwen's words to Beth, the sleeper agent. G-Ianto nodded. Ianto smiled. "Then you are."

There came the sound of splashing from up the corridor.

"Sorry to break this up, guys, but we really need to get out of here," Jack said. "I think the house-owner's coming home."

-T-

Ianto and G-Ianto both swung around in synchronisation as the splashing sounds grew louder, the aliens drawing closer. Ianto felt his pulse quicken, and

"What do we do?" G-Ianto demanded in an undertone, his emerald eyes flashing.

Jack flashed him a quick grin. "What we usually do – run!"

Ianto rolled his eyes and chased after Jack, water sloshing up over his shoes; as he ran, he felt his chest tighten and his breathing started to tear from his throat like the ragged gasps of a winded wrestler.

"You okay?" G-Ianto asked, barely even short for breath.

"Fine," Ianto choked out. His eyes were starting to water.

"Jack, we need to stop," G-Ianto called, taking Ianto's elbow and turning a sharp right, into a side corridor. "Ianto's…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish. "We need to stop," he repeated lamely.

Ianto slid down the wall, trying desperately to even out his breathing and get his body back under control. It felt like he was wearing a far-too-tight jacket, which was gradually getting smaller and smaller until he could barely see straight.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and looked up through streaming eyes to see Jack's worried face, barely more than an indistinct blur.

"Ianto?" Jack asked.

_Too loud, far too loud… _Ianto closed his eyes and focussed on evening his breathing, but the jacket only got tighter and tighter.

"Ianto, please, look at me," Jack said, his voice still painfully loud.

"Too loud," Ianto muttered, his voice cracking. He didn't open his eyes, keeping perfectly still with his knees drawn up to his chin and his arms wrapped tightly around his shins.

Jack stroked back his hair, his caress gentle. "Talk to me, Ianto," he murmured. "Tell me what's wrong."

Ianto cautiously opened one eye, squinting up at what he assumed was Jack's face. "Too loud." He winced at the volume of his own voice. "Can't breathe. All blurry."

"Ssh…" Jack murmured. "S'okay. Just take deep breaths."

"What's wrong with him?" G-Ianto asked warily, careful to keep his voice low.

"Leukaemia," Jack said shortly. He never stopped running his fingers through Ianto's hair. "We need to get him to hospital."

Ianto was grateful that G-Ianto didn't question Jack, simply looping his arm through Ianto's and helping him to his feet, Jack on Ianto's other side. His head swam as he straightened, his eyes still screwed shut.

Struggling down the corridor, Jack suddenly stopped, taking a step closer to and in front of Ianto.

"What is it?" Ianto asked, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him.

"I think we've been discovered," Jack said softly.

-T-

Toshiko's flat was silent at this time of the evening. Martha stared at her laptop screen with glazed eyes, fighting exhaustion.

Toshiko emerged from the bathroom, a towel knotted around her and her hair wet. "You really should get some sleep," she said, her face serious.

Martha shook her head. "I know. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said.

"I mean it," Tosh said. "You look dead on your feet."

"I just…I feel like we're missing something. Something big."

Toshiko frowned, stopping on her way into the bedroom. "What sort of thing?"

Martha shrugged, blinking furiously to try and clear her vision. "I don't know."

"Hang on a sec – I'll just get dressed." Tosh slipped into her room and, seconds later, came back out in a pair of dark jeans and a baggy t-shirt. "So, you were saying?"

"I…I have a feeling that we need to look at the bigger picture. Think outside the box a bit," Martha said, her brain slowly coming back on-line.

Toshiko paused in towel-drying her hair and frowned at her. "I'm guessing you— oh!" Her eyes widened in sudden enlightenment, and she leapt up, dashing over to where her own laptop was on charge and quickly flicking it on.

"What is it?" Martha got up and peered over her shoulder as the computer expert deftly manoeuvred through welcome screens and opened up the internet browser. She noted the tiny Torchwood logo in the bottom right-hand corner and smiled slightly; extra Torchwood access, then.

"We've been so preoccupied with getting Jack and Ianto back that we haven't asked _why_ the aliens chose Ianto in the first place," Toshiko said, speaking quickly and excitedly. She tapped out a quick succession of commands onto the keyboard. "We haven't even wondered what they want – or where they come from."

"Or how long they've been on Earth," Martha added. "We know next to nothing about them."

"I've run a quick search for fish-aliens through the Torchwood species database," Toshiko explained. She jerked her chin to the printer in the corner. "Printing the results now…can you—?"

"Done," Martha said smartly, swiping the sheets up and scanning the small print. "Give me a minute to read through this…"

"I also think that it could be an idea to look through the history of Guernsey and the other islands, see what might possibly be their arrival," Tosh continued, "as well as what they've done, how many they've killed."

"We could get Owen to go through the medical records again," Martha suggested.

Toshiko shook her head. "Not now. We can call him later, if we need him. He's been through them so many times that I'm surprised he can't recite them by heart."

Martha frowned at the print-outs. "Tosh, the only aliens that fit what we know aren't named here," she said. "But it doesn't tell us much more about them, other than that the only case with them was resolved—" she broke off, her eyes wide with shock. She looked up to meet Toshiko's anxious gaze. "The only case with them was resolved by a certain John Smith."

"A.k.a. the Doctor," Toshiko finished, her expression grim.

Martha nodded. She cast the papers onto the sofa and grabbed her bag, retrieving her mobile phone. "I think it's high time we hear an explanation, don't you?"

-T-

The Doctor's eyes were dark and haunted, memories collected in them like smoky wraiths, nightmares which none deserved to be privy to. "You found out," he said quietly. "Took you longer than I expected."

Martha glared at him. "What the hell are you on about?" she demanded, almost spitting with rage, her hands balled at her sides.

"I think we all deserve a better explanation," Toshiko said. She had her arms folded defensively across her chest, but her chin was up and her eyes glittered with cold fury.

"It isn't that simple—"

"It never is with you, is it?" Martha snapped. "I trusted you to help us with this situation, Doctor." She shook her head. "I thought that you were the hero. That you only had all our best interests at heart."

The Doctor crumpled onto the Hub couch, his expression guarded. "I never intended this to happen," he said. "But there isn't anything I can do."

"You knew about their base!" Martha said in disbelief. "You knew where it was – you helped build it, for crying out loud!"

"It was meant as a sanctuary," the Doctor argued. "A place for them to live unbothered by humans who were hunting them."

"Instead it's been used as a prison and torture chamber." Toshiko looked upset.

The Doctor didn't look up, couldn't meet their eyes. "They promised me that they wouldn't harm any humans," he said. "They swore on everything they hold dear. I don't understand—"

"They've gone against their oath, then, haven't they?"

"It might have been their intention from the start," Tosh added.

The Doctor shook his head. "I _know_ them," he insisted. "They have to be being controlled by something else."

"Like what?" Owen startled all of them.

Toshiko spun around, mouth opening in shock. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," Owen said grimly. He didn't take his eyes from the Doctor's. "Long enough to hear, anyway."

"It isn't what it seems like," the Doctor tried. "This has to be just a misunderstanding."

"Like, when in telling us about what we're up against, you didn't tell us that you're best mates with them," Owen said.

"Or was _that_ just a 'misunderstanding'?" Martha asked coolly.

The Doctor looked from Martha to Tosh to Owen and then back to Martha again. "At least let me explain," he said. "Give me one more chance to redeem myself."

There was a pregnant pause before Martha said tightly, "Okay, then. But it'd better be good."

-T-

The Doctor ran an agitated hand through his hair, messing it up into little tufts and spikes. "Have you ever heard of Blackbeard the pirate?" he asked.

Martha frowned. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Just bear with me," the Doctor said hurriedly. "So you've heard of him?"

"Yeah…" Owen said warily. He folded his arms, his face gaunt in the damp half-light.

"You may want to sit down." The Doctor nodded at Toshiko's desk. "It's quite a long story."

"We're fine standing, thanks," Tosh said coolly.

The Doctor sighed. "Okay. A long time ago – I forget how long, exactly – a band of pirates came to Sark."

"Sorry – probably really obvious – but where's Sark, exactly?" Owen asked.

"It's one of the little islands off Guernsey," Martha said, without looking around at him. She kept her gaze fixed on the Doctor. "It's famous for not having any cars."

The Doctor nodded at her. "Ten points for Gryffindor, Miss Jones," he said. Martha's glare didn't lessen, so he hurriedly continued the story, "It all started after the monks left Sark. One day, a kid – Pierre, I think his name was – ran into the village…"

-T-

It was a bright day, which the Doctor was glad of. It meant that he could wander around the village without getting wet, and observe the daily antics of the Sarkees.

"Hi there," he said casually to an elderly woman carrying a sack on her back. "Need any help?"

The woman smiled at him, displaying a mouth full of broken, blackened teeth, and shook her head. "Nay, but thanks, son," she said. "Not many offer help these-a-days."

The Doctor puffed out his cheeks and rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "That's not very nice, is it? Why don't you—"

"A ship!" sounded a cry, interrupting the Doctor. A small boy was sprinting to the church, his bare feet scuffing up dust and his grimy face broken into a beaming smile. "There's a ship coming in!"

A man, who the Doctor recognised as Simon, a fisherman, emerged from the church, a disapproving frown on his heavy-set features. "What's all this noise about, Pierre?" he asked, irritated.

Pierre skidded to a halt and pointed back behind him, in the direction of the cliffs. "There's a ship coming in," he repeated, dark eyes shining with barely-concealed excitement.

"Oh, aye?" Simon said casually. "What sort of ship?"

"A big one!" Pierre stretched up as far as he could on his tip-toes and made an expansive gesture. "An' it's coming in fast."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Robert, a farmer, was already starting off towards the harbour. "We'd better welcome it in!"

"Wait!" the Doctor said, holding up his hands. "How d'you know that they're friendly?"

Robert paused, frowning. "What d'you mean?"

"It could be pirates," the Doctor pointed out. "In which case, you should probably all start preparing to defend yourselves."

"John – you're a newcomer here. You can't possibly know enough to make that assumption," Simon said, though his tone was warm. "Yes, you fixed the church roof with simply your glowing stick, but we know about the sea. An' pirates have never been here."

The rest of the villagers were emerging from their houses. "What's going on?" one of them asked anxiously.

"There's a ship!" Pierre said, clearly trying not to bounce. "A big one."

"We'd better greet them—"

"I'll go and check the food-stores—"

"I wonder where they've come from—"

"A ship?"

"We should—"

"Enough!" Simon yelled at the top of his lungs. "Enough babbling. There's a ship coming in—"

"A big one!" Pierre piped up.

"—and we're going to go down to the harbour to meet them." Simon nodded at Pierre. "Women and children stay behind – we're goin' ta need a veritable feast for our guests."

"But—"

"Enough, Pierre. Help your mamma," Simon said sternly. He turned on his booted heel and marched down the hill, a dozen or so other men following behind him, Robert included.

The Doctor frowned. "This certainly doesn't look good…" he murmured to himself. But all the same, he was here for aliens – not for pirates.

A clap of thunder overhead startled him; the sky had suddenly become overcast, roiling with dark clouds, as rain started to pour down onto the small village, making the dry dirt jump and dance as the raindrops hit.

The Doctor sent a suspicious look up at the clouds, before heading into the nearest house after Pierre and his mother.

-T-

Jack paused in the doorway to the cell. His stomach clenched as he gazed at the figure in the bed, tubes and wires feeding into his arms; Ianto's face was deathly pale and his eyes were closed. Jack had to look extra close to see the gentle rise and fall of his chest. But finally, at long last, Ianto Jones was being cured.

_So much for the aliens being evil,_ Jack thought with quiet amusement. _Then again, things are never that simple – there always has to be two groups of aliens fighting each other whilst on earth. And using humans as pawns._

"You going to stand there all day?" The quiet murmur startled Jack, as Ianto's eyes fluttered open.

He quickly hurried over and dropped to his knees by the bedside, taking Ianto's hand – the previously burnt one – in his own. "How're you feeling?"

"Other than shit?" Ianto asked, then coughed. "Good, I guess. Better, anyway."

"They did say that it would only take a few hours," Jack reminded him, letting go of Ianto's hand so that he could touch Ianto's cheek.

Ianto frowned. "How long's it been?"

"One hour and forty minutes," Jack replied. "G-Ianto's trying to book some transport to get us home."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "'G-Ianto'?" he asked, amused.

"Stands for 'green-eyed'," Jack explained. "It's too confusing to call you both Ianto."

"Better than Ianto-1 and Ianto-2," Ianto conceded. "Have you told the others about him?"

Jack suddenly found the hem of the blanket very interesting, picking at it with his fingernails. Ianto waited. Finally, Jack said, "Not exactly."

Ianto raised both of his eyebrows this time.

"…no. I haven't told them."

"Well, then," Ianto said, smiling slightly.

The counter on the IV stand clicked, and another bag of liquid started to feed down the plastic tube into Ianto's wrist, hidden under the cast. Jack had to look away when Ianto winced.

"So…" Ianto said, voice slightly strained. "I was thinking that we should really take a proper holiday sometime."

Jack tried to smile. "Where were you thinking of?"

Ianto shrugged – or at least, as best he could in a bed. "Paris, maybe? That's where Gwen and Rhys went."

"I'd like to take you to somewhere in Italy, actually," Jack said.

"Does that make me the girl?"

"You could always take me, if you're that fussed," Jack offered with a grin. A grin that quickly vanished as Ianto leant over the side of the bed and vomited into the bucket placed there exactly for that purpose.

Ianto wiped his mouth with a grimace. "Couldn't pass me some water, could you?"

Jack helped Ianto take a sip, then placed it back on the floor again. "I haven't actually spoken to the team yet," he admitted. "I was planning on waiting for you to wake up before I did anything."

"Idiot," Ianto said. Jack could see the pain in his eyes, the way that he clutched at the blanket with white-knuckled fingers. Ianto managed a thin-lipped smile. "I'll be okay, Jack. Stop worrying."

"I wasn't worrying," Jack deferred immediately. "Well, maybe a bit. A tiny bit." He held up his hand to demonstrate, his index finger and thumb a bare centimetre apart.

Ianto raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe a bit more than that." Jack allowed the gap to widen to an inch.

Ianto's eyebrows were still raised.

Jack sighed. "Fine, I was worrying myself silly. Happy?"

Ianto just chuckled and tapped his cast. "I think that this can come off now," he said with a grin. "The nanogenes did a lot."

Jack flashed him a brilliant smile. "You can get Owen to take it off when we get back to Cardiff."

"How long'll that be?"

"You should be back with your beloved coffee machine by this time tomorrow," Jack promised.

"That's good," Ianto said, with a slight sigh and a small smile. His eyes started to waver closed; Jack stroked his temple with gentle fingers, waiting patiently for him to fall asleep once more.

-T-

The Doctor spun around at a resounding knock on the door.

Rosalinne grabbed Pierre and looked at the Doctor for direction, her eyes wide and scared. "John? What is it?"

The Doctor took a cautious step forward and frowned as there came a crash from outside. "I think that maybe our visitors aren't as pleasant as hoped…"

-T-

G-Ianto frowned at the new, 'good' fish-man, trying to ignore the fact that the alien stank. The fish-man's scales were a dull, muddy-brown colour, and seaweed was encrusted beneath his fingernails. At least, G-Ianto guessed that it was seaweed.

"So you want me to give bone marrow?" G-Ianto asked.

The fish-man (who G-Ianto had decided to christen Elvis, simply from the quiff and way of speaking) nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh."

"Will it hurt?"

"Uh-huh."

"But he'll die without it," G-Ianto said, almost to himself.

"Uh-huh," Elvis agreed, even though it wasn't a question. "He die."

G-Ianto turned away, trying to keep him emotions under wraps. He stared at the grey brick wall, counting the flecks in an effort to keep control. _I'm not a medicine closet,_ he wanted to say. _I've already given blood and stuff._

And a tiny, rogue thought slipped in. _What if he dies?_ it whispered in his ear. _If he dies, then Jack might come back to you. _

G-Ianto shook his head, trying to dislodge that thought. It would be wrong to do anything less than everything he could to save the other man – and if he was the cause of the other Ianto's death…well, Jack wouldn't exactly be falling into his arms any time soon.

"You good?" Elvis asked, sounding concerned. "Need water?"

"No, thanks," G-Ianto said absently. He fiddled with his watch-strap, wishing that he could put this off, somehow. "Where's Jack?"

"Here," Jack said quietly. G-Ianto turned around, to see the captain standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed. G-Ianto wondered if he'd been crying. "What's up?"

"Nothing," G-Ianto lied, ignoring the urge to hold Jack tight, to comfort him, "just wondered where you were."

Jack nodded, his blue eyes distracted. "Are you ready?" he asked.

G-Ianto frowned. "Ready for what?"

"For the transplant," Jack said, clearly surprised. "The bone marrow."

_But I haven't agreed to do it yet! _G-Ianto wanted to scream. _You can't make me._ "Yeah. Of course," he said instead, forcing a smile and following Jack and Elvis from the room.

-T-

"Open up!" a harsh voice commanded.

The Doctor cast Rosalinne and Pierre a cautious look, before unbolting the sturdy oak door and poking his head around. "Hello there," he said cheerily to the grim-faced pirate outside. "Sorry we can't come out right now, but if—"

He was cut off by a fist around his wind-pipe and a growled complaint in his face, "You talk too much. Shuddup."

"Magic word," the Doctor managed to choke out.

The pirate's heavy brows drew together in a confused scowl. "You talk too much," he repeated.

"Y'know, I think I've heard that before—"

The pirate tightened his grip, and the Doctor gasped for air. "Shuddup."

The Doctor was dumped unceremoniously on his backside in the mud and the pirate pulled the door fully open, beckoning out Rosalinne and Pierre with a lascivious leer.

-T-

He instantly felt guilty for even thinking of refusing to go through with the surgery when they entered the blue-eyed Ianto's room and he saw him, lying there in the bed, his face almost the pallor of the dead and his chest barely moving. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping.

"Ianto?" Jack asked softly, taking his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the palm. "We've got something that'll make you better." He shot a glance at G-Ianto, his expression nervous. "Just hang on a bit longer – it'll be all over by the end of the day."

Ianto didn't respond, remaining perfectly still apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. G-Ianto swallowed, then trailed after Elvis into the connecting room, where needles would be stuck into his hips, like a human pincushion, and some marrow sucked out.

Nice.

-T-

"I am now in charge here," the pirate said smugly, strutting up and down the green (or rather, the brown – it was knee-deep in thick, gloopy mud). "I, Blackbeard the Brave!"

"What a stupid name," the Doctor muttered out the side of his mouth to Rosalinne, in an attempt to conquer the terrified expression on her flaccid features. "But imagine if it were Bob – now that—"

"Just shut up, will you," Rosalinne hissed, her pale eyes wide with fear. "You'll make it worse!"

-T-

Jack bit his lip, pacing back and forth in front of the door behind which both of the Iantos were undergoing surgery.

A small fish-girl with shimmering silver scales hurried around the corner, offering up a tray on which a single glass of water was balanced. "You drink?" Her voice was surprisingly throaty, not dissimilar to that of a French-speaker speaking English.

"No thanks," Jack said distractedly. "How much longer will it take?"

She shrugged, slopping some of the water over the sides of the glass. "19 clicks?" she said.

Jack did a quick mental calculation. _About an hour and a half, then. _

"I help you with things?" the fish-girl asked. "I Cleo."

"Like Cleopatra?" Jack questioned, smiling despite himself. "What is it with you guys and famous names?"

"I no understand…" Cleo said, frowning in anxiety.

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. He leant back against the wall, letting himself slide down until he sat on the floor with a bump. He buried his face in his hands, and willed the time to hurry up.

He felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He froze for a second, before realising what it was and answering.

"_Jack?"_

"Gwen."

"_You're back, then?_" There was no way of telling what she was feeling; her voice was carefully neutral.

"Yeah. They're in surgery at the moment." Jack scrubbed a hand across his face and into his hair.

"…_'They'?_"

Damn. "There was a slight…complication," Jack said carefully, "which resulted in there being two Iantos."

"_'Two Iantos'?_"

"It's complicated, Gwen. I'll explain it all when we get back," Jack said, suddenly feeling a bone-deep exhaustion. "We should be back by tomorrow evening, hopefully."

"_Okay_." A beat. "_Where are they in surgery?_"

"Turns out the aliens aren't all bad," Jack said with a choked laugh. "They're split into two groups. One group's trying to kill us all, the other group's trying to stop them." He paused, trying to order his thoughts. "The bad group were the ones that killed Ianto and infected him with the leukaemia, in an attempt to turn us away. The good ones were the ones talking to Clara, but they accidentally killed her."

"_How can you 'accidentally kill' someone?_" Gwen asked. She sounded tired, and strained.

"Beats me," Jack said. "But the good ones are currently curing Ianto – they made sure that both of the Iantos would get pulled from the other world, so that they could use his stem cells."

"_Why would they do this for us?_"

Jack sighed, and shifted the mobile to his other ear so he could check his watch. Still an hour and twenty minutes to go. "I promised them that the Doctor would take them home."

"_Jack, the files say that their planet was destroyed by war,_" Gwen said. "_There's no way you can keep that promise. The Doctor doesn't keep his promises. For all we know, he could drop them off into a black hole._"

"The Doctor would never do that," Jack said instantly.

Gwen was quiet for a moment. "_But what if you don't know him as well as you think you do?_"

"I know him, and he'd never do that. What's brought this on?"

"_Jack…the Doctor knew about these aliens all along. He knew about their base, about their war, everything._"

"What?" Jack demanded, feeling a surge of dread in his gut. "What are you talking about, Gwen? What's happened?"

"_Martha and Toshiko found a file about the aliens. The Doctor was the one who set them up in their base underneath the islands,_" Gwen said. "_He was the one who gave them the technology to give people leukaemia._" She paused. "_He was the one who killed Ianto_."

Jack froze. He could hear the blood hammering in his ears; he felt as if somebody had kicked him in the stomach. "W-What are you talking about?" he demanded, willing his voice not to crack.

Gwen sighed. Her voice echoed emptily down the phone line. "The Doctor left the aliens some technology which they then…well, they used to give people leukaemia."

"But the Doctor wouldn't kill anyone. He wouldn't kill Ianto." Jack rubbed his thumb along the seam of his trousers, wincing as it snagged a small cut. "He wouldn't," he repeated.

"No. I don't believe you. There must be some sort of misunderstanding," Jack said. He stuck his thumb in his mouth, tasting the iron tang of blood on his tongue.

"No misunderstanding, Jack," Gwen said sadly. "He admitted to it."

"This can't be happening," Jack said, pulling his thumb from his mouth and watching the blood well, scarlet tears that stung like bitter wine. _I'm going to wake up, and everything will be fine_.

"It is, Jack," Gwen said, her voice sympathetic. _Damn you, Gwen bloody Cooper and your bleeding heart._ "What do you want us to do?"

Jack clenched his fist, the skin stretching and whitening over the bone, and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His thumb throbbed, but as he glanced at it he saw the cut was now barely a scratch. "Gwen, do whatever you think is best. I'll be back sometime tomorrow." He ended the call before Gwen could respond, casting the mobile onto the floor with a clatter.

"Sir?"

Jack looked up; Cleo was standing there, a concerned frown on her pixie-features. "Surgery be almost over, sir," she said.

Jack felt a slight twist in his gut at the word 'sir', but stood up and nodded briskly at her. "Right, then," he said. "I'd better…" he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the door behind her.

Cleo shook her head, her dry hair fluffed around her face. "The two be sleeping."

"I just want to see him. Them." Jack tried to step past her, but she barred the way.

"Wait," she pressed. "They two wake up."

"You want me to wait for them to wake up, before I visit?" Jack checked.

Cleo nodded solemnly.

"Oh. Okay, then." Jack scowled at the breeze-block wall. "How much longer?"

"Not long," Cleo said reassuringly and patted his arm somewhat awkwardly. "They be fine."

"I know," Jack said, wishing that the tight coil of nerves in his stomach would just relax. "I know."

-T-

The Doctor tugged at his bonds, cursing his bad luck. Beside him, Rosalinne's watery eyes were large above her gag, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry.

"Beddy-byes, kiddies," one of Blackbeard's henchmen – who the Doctor had privately named 'Annoying, Insulting Cockney Twat' – said with a smirk.

The Doctor would have made some smart-ass reply if it wasn't for the gag over his mouth. Instead, he thought of all the rudest names that he could remember – and there were a lot of them – and imagined yelling them at the top of his voice.

"Sleep tight – hope the bed-bugs don't bite," 'Annoying, Insulting Cockney Twat' continued, backing out the barn. He slammed the door behind him and the barn was left in darkness.

Darkness which then came alive, wriggling and scratching and smothering and biting and clawing.

-T-

Ianto opened his eyes to see Jack hovering over him.

"Y'know, this is becoming a far too regular occurrence," he managed to croak.

Jack's face broke into a relieved grin. "You're feeling okay, then?"

"Mmmhmm," Ianto agreed, shifting uncomfortably in his bed and trying to ignore the urge to scratch at the IV embedded in his hand.

There was a skylight in the middle of the ceiling, with dancing shafts of sunlight falling through the glass and pooling on the breezeblock floor.

Ianto frowned. "I thought we were below sea-level," he said, craning his neck to try and see through the skylight. He could just see the branch-tip of a gorse-bush tapping on the misted glass.

"We were," Jack said, getting up and lifting a vase of sea-lavender to press a couple of buttons on a keypad concealed beneath, "but this part is higher up, in the cliff."

Part of the wall slid down, revealing a glass panel that looked out across the sea. The sun was glittering off the water; seagulls swooped across it, their wing-tips just skimming the surface of the waves. Ianto could imagine the fresh breeze on his face, and the tang of the salt in the air.

"Nice day," Jack said, perching on the edge of Ianto's bed and gazing out across the sea. Guernsey was just visible on the horizon, a looming, misshapen mass of trees, houses and rocks.

"How come this has never been discovered?" Ianto asked, taking his eyes off Jack to stare out the window. "Surely people must have come across it before?"

"Perception filter," Jack said casually, looking around at him with a slight smile quirking the corner of his lips.

"Of course," Ianto said. He felt a bit stupid. "Sorry. That was rather obvious, wasn't it?"

"Just a bit," Jack agreed with an amused chuckle.

Ianto let it drift into silence, just watching the boaters out on the water; water-sports were popular today, he noted.

Finally breaking the companionable quiet after a couple of minutes had passed, Jack said, "We can go home today, if you like."

"What about G-Ianto?" Ianto stared at Jack, surprised that he could forget so quickly.

Jack shrugged. "Well, I kinda assumed that he'd want to do his own thing."

"Have you asked him?"

Jack worried his lower lip between his teeth, eyes narrowed slightly. He still didn't look at Ianto. "Not exactly. He's not awake yet."

"How is he?" Ianto asked, suddenly anxious for the well-being of his doppelganger.

"I…I haven't actually checked in on him yet," Jack admitted. "I wanted to wait for you to wake up, first."

"You idiot," Ianto said. He ignored the little voice that whispered in his brain, _'See, this is how much he cares for people who love him.'_ "Go and check on him, now."

"Are you—"

"I'll be fine." Ianto nodded at the door. "Now go!"

-T-

Standing by G-Ianto's bedside, Cleo turned her orb-like grey eyes on Jack, almost reproachful. "Not long now," she said.

"Yeah – your medicine's amazing. We'll have him up and running about in no time," Jack agreed, smiling in spite of himself.

Cleo hesitated. Then, "Not up."

Jack frowned. "What d'you mean?" he asked with a nervous laugh. "Of course he'll be fine."

"He not from here," Cleo said sadly. "He from water-world."

"'Water-world'?"

"World made by vibrating water molecules," Cleo said, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if reciting from memory. "Creates world within world – water-world."

"So what're you saying?" Jack asked. "Are you saying that he needs to go back to his world?"

"He die."

Jack shook his head. "No. No – surely there must be something you can do. You cured Ianto of leukaemia – surely you can stop him dying?"

"He die," Cleo repeated, checking the IV feed implanted in G-Ianto's hand. "I go – he wake." She hurried from the room, Jack watching her go with an odd hysteria bubbling in his chest.

G-Ianto opened his eyes – Jack still felt a tug of surprise in his gut when he saw they were green, not blue – and winced at the light. "Jack?" he croaked.

"I'm here," Jack said. This was starting to get very familiar. And he really hated hospitals.

"How's Ianto? The other one, I mean."

"He's fine."

"Good." G-Ianto's eyes fluttered closed for a second, then opened again; his lashes were like smoky smudges against his pale cheeks. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, then fixed Jack with a look. Jack felt his gaze right down to the very core of his soul; he reached out and took G-Ianto's hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it.

"I'm dying, aren't I?" G-Ianto asked, his voice steady.

"No. Of course not," Jack lied, trying to smile brightly at him, although he felt like breaking down and crying. Captain Jack Harkness couldn't cry. Captain Jack Harkness had to be strong, and cock-sure, and arrogant, and flirty – not uncertain and tearful. And he was Captain Jack Harkness. Though sometimes – okay, a lot of the time – he wished that he could just be Jack. Jack, who didn't have to face death every day and laugh in its face. Jack, who could go home after a day at work and curl up on the sofa with his…well, whatever Ianto was to him, and watch re-runs of _The X-Factor_ whilst laughing at various antics of desperate wannabes.

G-Ianto sighed, as if he could see inside Jack's head. "Please don't lie to me, Jack."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are." When Jack looked at him, G-Ianto managed a small smile. "I know you, remember."

"Yeah," was all Jack could say.

G-Ianto's eyes started to close again; Jack cleared his throat, squeezing the hand in his grip. G-Ianto opened his eyes and gave Jack a baleful look. "I'm tired," he said, the reproving tone at once familiar and unfamiliar. "Can't you just let me sleep?"

"Promise you won't die on me first, then you can."

G-Ianto sighed. "I'm not going quite yet. Just a nap, and then I can do the dramatic dying that movies seem so fond of." He gave a crooked smile. "All this belongs in a movie. I wonder…if I die here, might I wake up back home?"

Jack shook his head, his throat tightening. "I don't think it works like that."

G-Ianto sighed, a soft exhalation that encapsulated so much and yet so little. "It's a nice thought, though."

"Yeah."

"I love you, you know," he said conversationally, even as his voice became slurred and his eyes slipped closed.

"Yeah." Jack swallowed hard. _I'm sure I loved you too._

G-Ianto's fingers twitched slightly, and gave Jack's fingers the tiniest squeeze.


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jack didn't know how long he sat there at G-Ianto's bedside, feeling his hand grow cold in his own, watching the still chest and listening to the silence in the room broken only by his own breathing. He felt numb. From his head to his toes, he felt nothing. Just empty.

Stiffly, he rose to his feet and untangled their fingers, settling G-Ianto's gently on his chest, right in the centre of the sternum. His other hand, the IV still taped in place, was tucked snugly into the hollow at the base of his throat.

They say that, in death, a person looks as if they are merely sleeping. G-Ianto's face was still and relaxed; he looked almost as if he had been carved from wax. His lips were parted ever so slightly, the colour fast fading from them. He looked…at peace, although Jack might simply have been searching for some sort of comfort, making it up as he went along.

He turned on his heel, his long coat swinging around his legs, and left the room without a backwards glance.

-T-

Ianto stared out across the iron-grey water, his face being whipped raw by the bitingly cold wind. The ferry lurched and rolled beneath his feet.

Ianto felt hollow, an aching emptiness spreading through him from the inside out. _Could your soul shrink? _he wondered idly, tightening his grip on the cold steel railing running around the top deck of the ferry.

"Ianto?"

Ianto looked to his right to see Jack approaching, his RAF greatcoat buttoned right up under his chin. He looked tired, Ianto thought. Old.

"I just got a call from Gwen," he said, reaching Ianto's side and leaning his forearms on the rail. He too turned his ice-blue gaze out across the waves. "She wanted to know how you were."

"I'm fine," Ianto said numbly. He could no longer feel the chill of the wind.

Jack let out his breath in a sigh, clearly exasperated by Ianto's lack of animation. "Ianto…"

"What is there to say, Jack?" Ianto snapped. "He _died_ because of me. You can't expect me to just pick myself up and carry on."

Jack was quiet for a moment. Ianto didn't look around at him, almost afraid of what he might see on the captain's face. Afraid of seeing understanding there.

"He died, and now I've just got to smile, go back to Cardiff and carry on with life as if nothing happened," Ianto said, not bothering to curb his bitter tone. "Everybody I touch dies, somehow. I just wonder how long the rest of you have left."

Jack didn't touch him, for which Ianto was eternally grateful. He knew that if Jack touched him, now, he would collapse – breaking and crumbling into Jack's arms.

He had to stay strong. He didn't deserve to be allowed to break. He didn't deserve any of it.

Jack sighed again, a sigh of exhaustion and energy and wisdom and naivety and age and youth and every possible contradiction wrapped up in one exhalation of air. "Everything dies, Ianto."

"Except you."

Jack inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the truth of that statement. "Everything, apart from me, dies – there's no stopping it. You didn't kill him. Or any of them."

"I as good as," Ianto said softly, still refusing to look at Jack, and instead gazing out at the horizon, where the misshapen lumps of the islands had faded a few minutes ago, before his very eyes. "What gives me the right to live when they don't?"

Again, Jack was silent.

"What gives me the right to carry on with my life and be happy, when they didn't get the chance? We destroyed his life completely – the only thing he had left was his life. Then I took that, too."

"It was you or him. He knew that, and decided that you had more of a future than he did," Jack said forcefully. "He'd _done_ the whole settling down thing—"

"But he didn't get to finish," Ianto said. "He'd only just started." Finally, he felt he could face Jack, look him in his guarded blue eyes without cracking. "Do you know what his ambitions were? Do you know what he wanted to do for Christmas this year? What he wanted for his birthday? Where he wanted to go on holiday?"

Jack looked down and away. "No."

"Then how can you say that he'd 'done' it all?" Ianto demanded, not caring that his voice was getting louder and louder.

"I…" Jack shifted uncomfortably, straightening up and resting an uncertain hand on Ianto's shoulder.

Ianto shrugged it off, hating himself for the hurt look that briefly flashed in Jack's eyes before the captain hid it behind a fake toothy smile.

"I'll just go and leave you to your moping then, shall I?" Jack said brightly, his voice brittle. "Don't catch cold."

Ianto watched him stride off, the wind flapping the coat-tails around Jack's legs and the captain's head held high. Ianto felt the hole inside of him grow that little bit more; he wrapped his arms around his torso, in a joint attempt to hold himself together and to warm up a little. He considered running after Jack, like the obedient little butler he pretended to be, and letting Jack coddle him to within an inch of his life, until he remembered that he didn't deserve to be looked after and – dare he say it – loved.

-T-

"Jack!" Gwen almost yelped as she hurtled across the car-park towards them. She grabbed Jack in a fierce hug, then turned to Ianto, feeling a surge of protectiveness that she had never felt before. "You look like you haven't eaten in days," she said chidingly. "Good thing Rhys is cooking dinner for you both, right now."

"That's nice," Jack said, smiling tersely down at her. "How's the Rift been?"

"Barely a blip," Gwen said, still beaming. "Tosh's got all the data for you back at the Hub." She paused, surveying them both for a moment. "You have no idea how good it is to have you back."

As they walked across the car-park to where Gwen's blue Audi was parked beneath a spreading chestnut tree, Gwen couldn't help but notice the grey cloud that seemed to cling to Ianto.

His movements were all slower than she remembered, although they retained the same grace; his shoulders seemed … slumped, almost. His face was gaunter than she liked, and he looked tired – not the sort of tired that a good night's sleep would sort, but the kind of soul-weary exhaustion seen on the faces of war-veterans when they think that nobody's looking.

"Are you okay, Ianto?" she ventured, reaching out to touch his arm.

Ianto gave her a plastic smile, his eyes unreadable. "'Course I am. Just a bit tired."

Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw Jack shoot Ianto an anxious, uncertain look; a look that Ianto pointedly ignored and which cinched it for Gwen: Ianto was not alright, and Gwen intended to find out why.

-T-

"Hey, kids!" Jack called as they stepped through the cog-wheel door into the Hub, amidst blaring klaxons and flashing lights.

Gwen smiled at his flamboyant entrance; it really was good to have the captain back.

Tosh was up from her workstation in a flash, hurrying as fast as her heels would allow. "You're back!" she said in delight, her delicate features breaking into a relieved smile. "You will not believe what's been—"

"Finally decided to come back, then?" Owen interrupted, leaning casually against the wall by the door to the cells, like a loitering teenager outside a shop. "Thought you'd abandoned us in favour of the sun."

"When I could have Cardiff? Never." Jack grinned, his entire face lighting up as he gazed around the Hub again.

Once Jack had bounded off up to his office and Ianto ensconced himself by his coffee machine once more, Gwen frowned at Owen. "What were you doing down in the vaults?" she demanded in an undertone.

"Having wild, rampant sex with Janet," Owen retorted, although he too kept his voice down.

Gwen made a face. "Don't even joke about that," she said. "But seriously, why were you down there?"

Owen sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and frowning at the brick floor. "We've been keeping him sedated, as you know, but he seems to be having some sort of reaction—"

"Reaction? Are you sure?" Gwen asked. "What sort of reaction?"

"His brain activity keeps going off the scale," Owen said, lowering his voice to an almost-whisper when Ianto looked around curiously. "We think it's a psychic reaction to something, but we can work out fuck all."

"Is it bad?" Gwen asked. "Potentially dangerous?"

"No," Owen said. "Although we really need to run further tests. Martha's down there right now."

"Martha's down there?" Gwen asked, feeling cold dread sitting heavy in her gut. "By herself?"

At that moment, an ear-splitting scream rattled throughout the Hub.

"What's that?" Jack asked, racing down the stairs, a wild expression on his face. "Gwen, status report!"

Owen caught Gwen's eye and shook his head minutely. They couldn't tell Jack yet, not until the tests came up with some answer.

"Probably just Donna meeting Janet," Gwen shouted up at him, flashing him a quick reassuring smile as she headed for the doors to the vaults. "I'll go and check that she's okay."

Owen followed her, readjusting his grip on his gun – just in case.

They hurried through the corridors, breaking into a run every so often, until the door to the cells swung open and they found Martha in the Doctor's cell, her hands flying over his face as she checked him.

"He just sat up and…_screamed_," she said, her voice failing to mask her anxiety. "There was a flare in brain activity at the same time, but I can't for the life of me find out why—"

"Jack and Ianto are back," Gwen interrupted. "They can't find out about the Doctor – we can't tell them, anyway."

"What if he asks?" Martha pointed out. "I don't want to lie to him."

"If he asks, we tell him," Gwen replied. "I don't want to lie to him either. But we need more facts before we can really _do_ anything."

"Right," Owen said decisively. "As it is, I'll stay down her whilst you convince Jack that it was just 'Donna meeting Janet', as you said."

"'Donna meeting Janet'?" Martha asked, raising a carefully-shaped eyebrow.

Gwen shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with at the time," she said. "Remember – we need those tests before we can say anything!"

-T-

Jack paused by Toshiko's desk, laying a hand on a stack of papers and fixing her with a look. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask – where's the Doctor?"

Toshiko didn't look around from her computer screens. Her back tense, her fingers paused in their dance on the keyboard and she pulled off her glasses. She looked down, still unable to meet Jack's eyes. "I…I think it would be better if you asked Gwen or Owen about that," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Tosh. Tell me." Jack's voice was steely, and when Tosh risked a glance up at his face she saw that his eyes were like chips of ice.

"I can't," she whispered, defeated. Her shoulders slumped involuntarily

"Why not?"

"I promised."

"Promised who?"

"Ask Gwen or Owen," Toshiko repeated, turning her back on Jack and shakily picking up a sheaf of reports and flicking through them under the pretence of checking that they were in order.

"Maybe I will do," Jack said slowly, straightening up and frowning at her. "You might want to get those filed before Ianto starts nagging."

"What?"

Jack nodded at the papers she held in a vice-grip. "The reports."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Toshiko ducked her head and scurried away, heading for the Archives.

-T-

"Gwen."

"Yes, Jack?" Gwen looked up from her _OK!_ magazine and smiled brightly at him. She was relaxed on the sofa, a half-drunk cappuccino on the table in front of her.

Jack hesitated, momentarily distracted by a scantily-dressed female celebrity leering at him from the pages. He shook himself. "I was wondering why I haven't seen the Doctor around yet."

Gwen's eyes widened slightly, and her cheeks coloured slightly. "He's an alien threat," she said quickly. "What did you expect me to do?"

"Where is he?"

"Where do you think, Jack?" Gwen fixed him with a desperate look, her soft eyes pleading for him to understand.

Jack didn't see them. He was too busy trying to understand what she had just told him. "You locked the Doctor in the _vaults?_"

"Of course I did!" Gwen retorted. "I could hardly let him wander around, could I?"

"Why ever not?"

"Didn't you hear any of what I told you on the phone, Jack?" Gwen asked. "The Doctor _killed Ianto_. He allied himself with the aliens, and didn't tell us about them."

"You still didn't need to lock him up!"

"The others agreed – he was too much of a threat to just let him wander around our base. Who knows what he might have come up with?" Gwen gestured at the workstations, expression upset. "What if he had started fiddling around with the computers…or got into the Archives?"

"The Doctor wouldn't do that," Jack said quietly, forcefully, almost through clenched teeth. "The Doctor's a good person. He _saves _people, not _kills_ them."

"Then why didn't he tell us about the aliens?" Gwen demanded. "Why did he 'forget to mention' that he sort of _helped build their base_ and _gave them the technology that enabled them to kill?_"

"I don't know," Jack said softly. "Though what I do know is that the Doctor always has a good reason. He always looks to the greater good."

Gwen sighed, casting her magazine aside and standing up so that she was face-to-face with Jack. "Do those actions honestly sound like somebody with the 'greater good' in mind?" She shook her head, her dark hair cascading around her face like the shaggy mane of a Shetland pony. "Hasn't the Doctor done bad things before, Jack? Didn't he leave you behind for no reason, and then run when he saw you again?"

Jack didn't say anything. He looked down, biting his lip and staring at the diagonal yellow lines on the floor.

Gwen reached out and touched his shoulder, feeling her heart break a little for her best friend. "Jack…you can't blame yourself for not seeing this before."

"What, that the person who I always looked up to as a hero actually killed my lover and—" Jack broke off, turning away from her so that she couldn't see him crumble. "I think I need a coffee."

Gwen knew him well enough by now to know that that was code for 'I'm going to go and find Ianto now and break in private'. Despite her curiosity, she didn't push it. "I think Ianto's by the machine still," she said, instead.

-T-

Ianto smiled slightly as he felt warm arms slip around his waist, although he instantly chided himself for the happy feeling. He busied himself with the mugs. "Coffee's just coming up," he said briskly. "Thought you could do with some chocolate sprinkles."

"Could do with some of you," Jack murmured against his neck, nosing at Ianto's earlobe.

Ianto fought down the frisson of excitement that ran through him at that. "Not during working hours," he reminded Jack, pulling free of Jack's arms so that he could pick up the coffee tray.

"It's been weeks," Jack said, clearly trying to mask some sort of emotional upset.

Ianto frowned, putting down the tray again and leaning back against the counter, folding his arms and fixing Jack with a look that he hoped said 'Tell me what's wrong right now'.

Jack sighed. "The Doctor's in the vaults. Owen and Martha are running some tests on him."

Ianto stiffened. _No wonder Jack's upset_. "That's not right," he said instantly. "Just because he's an alien doesn't mean—"

"He knew about the aliens, Ianto," Jack interrupted. "He gave them the technology to…hurt you. Helped them build their base. And he didn't tell us."

Ianto raised a careful eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like the Doctor. Maybe you'd better let him out for a bit, let him explain. Second chances, remember?" Suddenly he had an armful of Jack, who was clutching him so tightly that Ianto suspected he'd have bruises later. He drew back slightly, worried. "Jack?"

Jack didn't respond, instead burying his face in Ianto's shoulder and clinging on even tighter. Ianto pursed his lips thoughtfully and brought a hand up to Jack's hair, stroking through it and waiting for Jack to calm down.

-T-

Like millions of slimy serpents, the shadow-creatures pulled and tugged at the Doctor's hair and clothes. The Doctor recoiled, swatting at them with hands miraculously freed, to no avail. He could hear the cries and shrieks of the other prisoners in the barn, as they too fought the clutching, grasping creatures.

The Doctor finally pulled one away from over his mouth, the gag also vanished, he managed to gasp out, "Everybody to the door! Now!"

With the brute force of all the trapped villagers, they managed to force the barn door open and spill out into the fields. The night was cold; their breath clouded in front of their faces and the drizzle dampened their hair and clothes. The Doctor grabbed the shoulder of Rosalinne and turned her around to face him.

"What's happening?" Rosalinne asked, her voice panicky. "What are they?"

"Just get out," the Doctor got out between pants. "Get out, and get away."

Rosalinne threw him one last terrified look, then grabbed Pierre and headed out into the night.

The Doctor watched them go for a moment, two figures that quickly vanished into the rainy gloom, then turned back to the barn, ready to face whatever emerged.

Out they came; writhing, wriggling shadows that gleamed like oil and were as soundless as the night itself. They tumbled onto the grass, flexing and reaching, almost as if they were searching for something.

The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out from his pocket and pointed it at them, giving them a quick scan. The sonic screwdriver whined and sputtered, complaining as noisily as it could.

"That can't be right…" the Doctor said slowly, peering closely at the screwdriver.

One of the shadows, shaped like a rather large slug, touched the Doctor's converse and fell backwards. Before the Doctor's very eyes, the shadow began to stretch and morph into an exact replica of the shoe, taking on shape and colour and form until the Doctor could reach down and pick it up.

"Oh, you're clever," the Doctor said in admiration. "And I bet you're only a baby."

The shoe remained a shoe. The Doctor looked down at the other two dozen shadows on the grass; or at least, he looked to where they had been. For now they were nowhere to be seen; instead, there was a large stick on the ground beneath a tree, a handful of daisies, and a scattering of leaves.

The Doctor frowned. "And a lot of trouble, I'd bet." He bent down, putting the replica shoe on the ground by one of the leaves. "If you're still babies, then where are your parents…?"

"Halt!" A rough voice barked from behind him.

The Doctor spun around, his hands going up above his head. He frowned when he saw one of the pirates pointing a futuristic-looking pistol at him, all silver and chrome. "Hey – where did you get tha—"

The Doctor came to slowly and uncomfortably. He was lying splayed out on the floor of the barn once more, the replica shoe sitting happily on his chest.

He lifted his head and stared at it. "Okay…" he said slowly. "That's unusu—"

"Hay-lo," the shoe said.

The Doctor frowned. "—al," he concluded. "Very unusual. A talking shoe."

The shoe sprouted a tiny little arm, with small blobby fingers reminiscent of a frog's, and waved at him.

"And a waving shoe. A shoe with an arm that waves." The Doctor sat up, the shoe falling into his lap. It made an annoyed mew, and flipped itself up the right way again. The Doctor leaned closer to it, until his nose was almost touching it.

And then recoiled as the little hand smacked his nose. "Ow," he complained. "What was that for?"

"Bad," the shoe squeaked, quivering with indignity.

"Sorry," the Doctor said automatically, then almost laughed as he realised that he was apologising to a shoe. A shoe.

Footsteps sounded behind him; the Doctor looked over his shoulder to see himself approaching. Or at least an exact replica of himself.

"Doctor," his clone said. "Sorry about the inconvenience. The young ones are still learning." It waved its hand at the shoe, making a 'scram!' motion. "Shoo," it said, "no pun intended."

"Okay…" the Doctor said, watching the shoe jump and flop its way off his torso. "Who exactly are you?"

"I'm Alfred," his clone said. "Hi." It held out a hand for the Doctor to shake.

The Doctor didn't make any move to shake it. "Why are you wearing my body?"

Alfred laughed, putting his hand back in his pocket. It was quite odd to see yourself laughing, the Doctor thought. "Sorry, Doctor. We simply thought that this would be the easiest way to communicate. It is rather hard to speak when wearing a tree."

"What about the pirate?" the Doctor demanded. "Why didn't you stay in that form?"

Alfred shrugged. "We were tiring of our old forms. We only want to experience life as fully as possible – keeping to one form is so restricting."

"I can understand that," the Doctor said, "but I don't understand the need to lock people up."

Alfred looked apologetic. "Again, we're sorry. There are some rogue youngsters that have left the Home – teenagers, I think you'd call them. They'll return to the Home with time, but meanwhile we just try to clean up their messes behind them, and make sure as few humans as possible are harmed."

"So this is just a case of teenage rebellion?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "All this?"

Alfred nodded solemnly. "This time, it has gone too far. They are being brought in for reprimanding." He picked up the shoe and stroked its back, smiling as it made purring noises of appreciation. "It won't happen again. We have a new Home scouted out – it should be finished within the year, and then you'll never hear of anything like this again."

"A new Home?" the Doctor asked. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"

"Our old home was stumbled upon by some Human children. We cannot stay there any longer." Alfred deposited the shoe on a hay bale, perching beside it and clasping his hands in his lap. "We've found a new location in the caves of the island."

"And I have your guarantee that this will never happen again, once your new Home has been built?" the Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes.

Alfred nodded, his face serious. "It should be completed within the year," he repeated.

"And the troublemakers will be reprimanded?" the Doctor checked.

Alfred nodded again. "They will be punished as the Hive sees appropriate."

"Wait a minute – you're a hive race?" the Doctor said, surprised. "A shape-shifting hive race?"

"We wouldn't use so crude terminology, but, yes, that is what we are." Alfred tapped the side of his head with a forefinger. "We are all here at once – this body is merely spokesperson."

"Well, then," the Doctor said. "I think that this is a good enough cause."

"Good enough cause for what?" Alfred asked cautiously.

The Doctor grinned at him, whipping out his sonic screwdriver. "I'm gonna help you build this new Home of yours."

-T-

Ianto paused inside the door to the cells, looking at the Doctor splayed out on the floor of the nearest cell. The smell from the cells was already pungent; Ianto guessed that it didn't occur to the rest of the team to clean out the Weevils at all in the past month.

Beside him, Gwen shifted uncomfortably. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

"He's unconscious, Gwen. How much harm can he do?" Ianto pointed out, tightening his grip on the plastic bag containing the weevils' pork chops.

"I just don't want you to get hurt again, that's all," Gwen said softly. "But if you're sure…"

"I'll be fine, Gwen," Ianto said, trying to sound as forceful as he could. He gave her a bland smile and started towards the weevil cells at the very end of the chamber, Gwen hovering awkwardly by the door. "Gwen, really – I don't need a nanny. Just let me do my job."

"Oh. Okay, then." Gwen took a step back, uncertainty in her every movement. "I'll just…"

Ianto heard her footsteps fading away as she walked down the corridor; the door slid shut behind her with a careful hiss and whirr of mechanics, and, at the end of the row of cells, Janet the weevil stirred.

"Hey there," he murmured, fishing out a pair of plastic gloves from his jacket pocket and snapping them on. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Janet moaned low in her throat, the sound reverberating through Ianto's skull and making his teeth ache. Ianto took a slab of raw meat out, wrinkling his nose at the slimy, slippery lump that glistened in the dim light. "Disgusting," he said in disdain, holding it out as far away from himself as possible. "Now _this_ I certainly didn't miss."

"Talking to yourself is quite often considered a sign of madness, y'know," a voice behind him said seriously.

Ianto spun around, nearly dropping the meat in shock. The Doctor was sitting up, cross-legged on the floor of his cell. He was still wearing the Velcro wrist-band measuring his blood pressure, but he had pulled off the blue patches stuck to his temples.

Ianto swallowed. "You're meant to be unconscious," he said roughly. "Why are you awake?"

"Because I'm not asleep," the Doctor responded cheerily. "Never had much time for sleep."

_Like Jack,_ Ianto noted distractedly. He should call Owen. Or Martha. Or Gwen. Or somebody. "I—"

"Tell me about yourself, Ianto," the Doctor said suddenly. He leant forward, flattening his palms against the plexi-glass cell front, his long fingers hooking through some of the holes. "Talk to me. Tell me about Ianto Jones."

"I ought to call Owen," Ianto said. His voice sounded shaky, even to his own ears.

"You ought to," the Doctor agreed, "but you won't, will you? You want to know about me as much as I want to know about you."

"I've got a job to do," Ianto said, turning away from the timelord. "The weevils won't feed themselves."

"They could do, if you let them free," the Doctor said. "They're self-sufficient."

"If we let them out, then people would die." Ianto pulled out a metal drawer in the side of one of the cells and dropped the slab of meat into it, before slamming it shut and locking it as the weevil leapt at the plexi-glass, ravenous and snarling. "It's better to keep them here."

The Doctor was silent as Ianto repeated the procedure with the next cell. For a moment, Ianto thought that he might have blacked-out again, but, when he glanced around to check, the Doctor was still standing there, staring at him in open curiosity.

Ianto shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit as if he was under intense scrutiny. "Do you need me to get something for you, sir?" he asked mildly.

"Why hasn't Jack come down to see me yet?" the Doctor asked quietly. "Does he even know I'm here?"

"He knows." Ianto finished off the last cell and pulled off the gloves, dropping them into the bag with his fingertips. "We don't keep secrets around here." He nearly bit his tongue at the outright lie, but kept his face carefully neutral.

"Hmm." The Doctor rocked backwards, letting go of the cell-front and sitting down again, with his knees drawn up beneath his chin. "That's odd. Jack told me that you all keep so many secrets that it's no longer a surprise when something's revealed."

"He tells you a lot, then?" Ianto stopped in front of the Doctor's cell, putting the bag down by his feet so that he could fold his arms across his chest.

"Everything," the Doctor said, his eyes wide and dark. "Like Lisa."

Ianto clenched his jaw. _Jack didn't have the right to tell the Doctor about that. That was between the team and me, nothing to do with the Doctor._

"I lost someone at Canary Wharf too, you know," the Doctor said quietly.

Ianto looked up, no longer bothering to hide his emotions. His arms dropped to his sides, and he unconsciously balled his fists. "More than eight-hundred people died there. At least you only lost one person."

"She meant the world to me," the Doctor said. "Rose Tyler. She got trapped in a parallel universe."

"She's alive, then?" Ianto asked. His stomach felt like it was full of clawing and fighting rats. _Why did this have to get brought up again?_

"Yeah. But I'll never see her again." The Doctor's eyes were vacant, staring off into the middle-distance.

"'Never say never'," Ianto heard himself saying.

"I guess." The Doctor looked back up at him. "Lisa was half-converted by the cybermen, wasn't she?"

"It's none of your business," Ianto said tightly. "That's in the past, and had nothing to do with you then or now."

"You go back up and serve them all coffee, then," the Doctor said. He smiled brightly up at him, although Ianto had spent long enough around battle-survivors to recognise when it was faked. He had done so often enough himself. "Better get back to Jack before he starts to worry that I've killed you."

"We have got CCTV, y'know," Ianto said. "It's not like you could actually do anything in that cell, either."

"I could do." The Doctor fixed him with a piercing stare, one that seemed to see right into his very soul. "If I wanted to, I could get out of here without any trouble at all."

"The Hub's harder to penetrate than you seem to think," Ianto said calmly.

The Doctor tipped his head back slightly and narrowed his eyes at Ianto. "Of course, you would know that, wouldn't you?"

Ianto swallowed hard, careful to keep his mask firmly in place, and left, feeling as though he had just undergone an intense questioning.


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jack was hunched over some paperwork on his desk, a coffee-mug sitting empty at his elbow. The office was dark but for his desk-lamp, which threw oversized shadows up against the brick wall.

Ianto knocked on the door and entered, careful to be as unobtrusive as possible. "Coffee," he said, swapping the empty cup with the full one in his hand.

"Thanks," Jack muttered, not looking up as he scrawled a signature on the bottom of an expenses form.

"Maybe you should take a break?" Ianto suggested tentatively.

"Can't," Jack said distractedly, picking up another sheet from the pile, holding his pen in his mouth as he scanned the sheet.

"Just for an hour?" Ianto reached out and rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, noting absently how tense his neck was.

"Busy," Jack mumbled around the biro in his mouth, although he did cover Ianto's hand with his own and give it a brief squeeze.

"It's not like you to want to work," Ianto said, trying to sound casual. _Are you okay?_

Jack tipped his head up to look at Ianto, taking the pen out of his mouth and half-smiling, the edges of his mouth turning up slightly and his eyes crinkling with soft blue amusement. "There's a lot of stuff to go through," he said. "I want to get up to date."_ I'm fine. I just need to get back in control, get back to work. _

Ianto smiled back, wondering when they started having conversations without actually having conversations. "I'll be around if you need me."

"I won't be much longer," Jack said. "Have the others gone home?"

"Not yet." Ianto checked his watch with a smart twist of the wrist. "It's only half six."

"I thought Gwen and Rhys were going out tonight?" Jack said, looking back down at his desk. "She was talking about that new French place in the centre."

"Their reservation's for eight-fifteen," Ianto explained. "She'll probably head off in a bit."

"What about the others?" Jack scribbled on another signature.

"They're going to see a film—" Ianto said, and before Jack could open his mouth added, "—with their phones set to vibrate."

"So we're Hub-sitting tonight, then?"

"Yup."

"Can we—?"

"Later."

"So that's a yes?"

"Maybe." Ianto patted Jack's head, smiling as Jack snagged his wrist and kissed the palm. "I'll bring the stopwatch."

"Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch," Jack agreed, tipping his head back again to grin lasciviously up at Ianto.

Ianto kissed him, upside-down and messy, and made a hurried exit before he got roped into anything he might regret.

-T-

Ianto's eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom as he stepped through the heavy iron door to the vaults. He shivered involuntarily at the cool, clammy air, and made a mental note to get hold of a heater sometime before the winter.

The Doctor was propped against the back wall of his cell, knees drawn up under his chin and his eyes vacant, staring off into the middle distance.

Ianto cleared his throat, awkwardly straightening his tie with one hand and tugging on the bottom of his suit jacket with his other.

The Doctor looked up, startled, quickly covering his surprise with a mad grin. "Ianto!" he greeted him in delight. "I was beginning to think that you'd all forgotten me."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "No, sir. I was working."

The Doctor let his feet slide across the floor, his knees lowering. "What is it exactly that you do?"

Ianto restrained the urge to say 'Jack', and instead said evasively, "A bit of everything, really."

"Jack said that you make the coffee," the Doctor said, fixing Ianto with a deceptively casual look. Ianto knew that he was probing, trying to figure him out. He himself did the same thing.

Ianto kept his face carefully blank, not letting the time-lord see how much that dismissive job description stung. "That's one of my duties, yes," he said.

"Do you do tea, too?" the Doctor asked hopefully.

"I'll bring one down right away," Ianto said, already turning to leave.

"I was wondering if I could come up with you…?" The Doctor didn't meet Ianto's eyes; his fingers were playing over his thigh, long digits pattering to and fro as he watched them with apparent fascination.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "That would involve letting you out of your cell, sir," he reminded the Doctor. "That's against protocol."

The Doctor's fingers stilled. "You broke protocol with Lisa."

Ianto swallowed, only just remembering to keep his mask in position. "Not on this occasion," he said, willing his voice to stay impassive. _To show emotion is to show weakness_, he reminded himself, his fingers convulsively curling around the hem of his suit jacket.

The Doctor shrugged, tipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling. "I guess Jack wants me out of sight," he said quietly, his eyes half-closed and dark.

"That isn't my place to comment on, sir," Ianto said stiffly. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a job to do." He headed back out through the door again, once more feeling as if he had been through an intense interrogation. He left the door open, however; even the Doctor didn't deserve to be shut away any more than he already was.

"Milk and two sugars, please!" the Doctor called after him, his voice echoing emptily down the corridor.

Janet uttered a throaty moan, dangerous and low.

-T-

Ianto breathed out a sigh as he reached his workstation, picking up the kettle, filling it with water and setting it to boil.

Just as he was picking out a mug – there only seemed to be pink ones at the moment – he felt two arms snake around his waist, pulling him flush against a muscled body.

"Jack…" he warned.

Jack chuckled, the vibrations tingling through Ianto's body, and rested his chin on Ianto's shoulder. "What?" he asked innocently.

"I said _later_," Ianto said, dropping a teabag into the only not obscenely-Barbie-pink mug that seemed to be in the cupboard.

"I say _now_," Jack replied, the mischief evident in his voice.

"_Later_," Ianto reiterated, trying to ignore the little voice whispering dirty thoughts into his ear.

Jack turned his head and planted a kiss beneath Ianto's ear. "Please?" he asked, his warm breath tickling Ianto's neck.

"The others are still here," Ianto said.

"No they're not," Jack said, sounding smug. "I sent them all home just now."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You're insatiable."

"C'mon…" Jack wheedled. "It's been ages."

Ianto switched off the kettle. "Fine," he said, letting a wicked smile creep onto his face. The little voice's whisperings grew filthier, and Ianto shivered slightly at some of the suggestions.

Jack grinned brightly, his eyes dark, and tugged Ianto, by the tie, up to his office.

-T-

Jack waited for Ianto to drift off before he carefully slid himself out from between the sheets and collected his clothes from where they lay scattered across the floor.

He was missing a button, Jack noted as he quickly did his shirt up. _Better get Ianto to sew that back on tomorrow. After all, it _is_ his fault I lost it._

"Jack?" Ianto asked sleepily, his eyes half-open and his cheeks flushed, his hair testament to their antics of the past hours.

"Just need to check something," Jack said casually, bending down to lace up his boots. "Won't be long."

"Rift?"

"No – doesn't matter. Go back to sleep." Jack gave him a smile.

Ianto frowned at him, still dozy, not quite escaped from the muggy warmth of dreams. "Why are you dressed?"

Jack shrugged, trying to come up with an excuse. "That cat's been hanging around the water tower again."

"The tabby?"

"Yeah. Pusska."

"Pusska?" Ianto was awake enough to raise an eyebrow, his expression a mix of disapproval and amusement.

"It's on her collar," Jack said defensively. His hands were on the ladder, ready to climb up as soon as the conversation was over.

"Mmm," Ianto said, rubbing his face with a hand. "Can't it wait 'til morning?"

"No, sorry."

"Whatever." Ianto's eyes were already closed, his breathing evening out once more.

-T-

"Jack," the Doctor said coolly, his expression guarded. "Finally decided to come visit?"

"Do you want to get out of here?" Jack asked, ignoring the Doctor's question. His arms were folded across his chest, his stance defensive. Before the Doctor could reply, he asked, "Do you want to get back to travelling the stars?"

"What sort of question is that?" the Doctor frowned at him. "Jack, what's wrong?"

Jack looked away, biting his lip. His heart was thumping in his chest.

"Jack. Talk to me."

Jack suddenly locked gazes with the Doctor, feeling his mouth go dry as he saw the tumult of emotions storming in the time-lord's eyes. "Did you kill Ianto?"

The Doctor swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. His eyes didn't leave Jack's. "Yes."

Jack felt something in his heart snap. "Why?" he whispered, barely noticing as his voice cracked.

"I had no choice."

"What?"

The Doctor looked down, his face expressionless. "It wasn't intentional. It was give them the technology or let the last of their race die."

"I don't under—"

"The technology would infect a person with a virus set to copy their DNA. The DNA would be used to make a … long-term form for the aliens, so that they didn't have to constantly shape-shift all the time." The Doctor tugged at his earlobe, clearly uncomfortable with what he was telling. "They only wanted to experience life properly."

"Then why not an animal – why a human?" Jack asked. _Why Ianto?_

The Doctor shrugged. "Sentience? Compatibility? I don't know."

Jack felt a slight glimmer of hope rekindle in his chest. "So you didn't kill him on purpose?"

"No – just let me explain. In copying the DNA, the virus also be attacking it. It would seem that the person has leukaemia," the Doctor said. "Only… I didn't think that it would kill anybody. They promised that they'd cure the leukaemia before the person even noticed."

"Then why—"

"They were attacked. By the rogues. The rogues stole the technology."

"Only the rogues weren't bound to the promise," Jack said slowly, understanding beginning to dawn. "They didn't cure them."

"I'm sorry, Jack. It's my fault. I should have seen this coming," the Doctor said softly. "I should have told you before."

"Why didn't you?"

The Doctor turned away, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Guilt, I guess. Some lingering hope that maybe this wasn't connected."

"But it is."

"It is," the Doctor confirmed, still not facing Jack. "And I need to get out. I need to stop it from going any further."

Jack narrowed his eyes at the time-lord's back. "I can let you out for an hour," he said. "No longer. And no using the TARDIS."

"Agreed," the Doctor said instantly, swivelling round on his heel and fixing Jack with an intense look.

_Ianto's gonna kill me for this…_ Jack thought morosely as he aimed his Vortex Manipulator at the cell front. A mechanism clicked somewhere in the ceiling, and the cell front shuddered.

The Doctor pushed it away, letting it crash to the floor, and grabbed his coat from the hook beside the cell. "Well, then," he said brightly. "Let's get down to business."

"Where's Donna?" the Doctor asked, not breaking his stride as they hurried through the veritable maze of tunnels and chambers in the lower levels of the Hub.

Jack didn't glance around at him as he replied, "At a film," his tone short and clipped.

"And the TARDIS?"

"Locked away." Jack turned down at side-passage, deftly depressing a press-stone cleverly concealed in a door-arch. "Toshiko's fixed a temporal/spatial lock on her, too, to keep her from wandering."

"She wouldn't leave without me."

"Hmm."

"She wouldn't," the Doctor insisted, blinking as bright light flooded the corridor they were walking down. "What—?"

"Sorry," Jack apologised, flashing a quick grin in the Doctor's direction, his teeth gleaming white. "The automatic systems seem to be a bit slow at the moment."

"No problem," the Doctor said, still blinking in an attempt to rid his vision of the dancing blue circles. "How deep does this place go?"

Jack chuckled, and gestured to a doorway that the Doctor hadn't noticed before. "I'm not entirely certain – there are tunnels leading up to Scotland and London, and others that the plans don't show."

"You would have thought that you'd at least make sure you knew what was in your base," the Doctor observed. He peered up the dark stairwell, the gloom a stark contrast to the bright lights of the corridor. "I bet you haven't even finished going through all the Archives, yet."

"That's Ianto's job," Jack said with a wry smile, following the Doctor up the steps.

"He does a lot, doesn't he?" The Doctor carefully slid the stunner out of his coat pocket, sliding his fingers up the slim metal shaft to flip the 'on' switch. _Sorry, Jack_, he thought as he whirled around and deftly cracked Jack over the head with the electric rod.

Jack crumpled, his eyes rolling back in their sockets and his mouth sagging open into an 'o' of surprise as he tumbled back down the stairs.

The Doctor leapt down the steps, shoving the stunner back in his pocket, to carefully take the immortal's pulse. He was relieved to find it steady and strong. "Don't like to use that thing," he said, rooting around in his other pocket for the short-range teleporter. "Easier than carrying you all the way up there without waking your Mr. Jones," he informed the prone Jack. "Sorry about this all, but it is rather necessary."

"What d'you mean, 'necessary'?" a cold voice demanded from behind him, accompanied by the click of a gun being taken off the safety-latch.

The Doctor froze, slowly swivelling around to face a white-faced Ianto Jones, pointing a SIG P228 semi-automatic straight between his eyes.

"Hands up where I can see them," Ianto instructed, his voice brittle. His eyes were over-bright in his pale face, the lighting bestowing upon him a chill pallor. Dressed in only a pair of slacks and a loose white t-shirt that the Doctor suspected was Jack's, the Welshman presented a rather unthreatening appearance.

"I'm only trying to help—"

"Pull the other one," Ianto snapped, his aim steady. "Tell me exactly what you've done to Jack, and how to wake him up again. And then tell me how you got out of your cell."

The Doctor licked his lips, hyper-aware of how close the gun was to his face. "Put the gun down and we can talk—"

"_Tell me_."

The Doctor hesitated for a moment. Dare he try bargaining with the young man? The expression on Ianto's face told him that he'd be a fool to try. "I only stunned him, and he'll wake up in a couple of hours," he said, keeping eye-contact with Ianto. He swallowed. "As for how I got out of the cell, Jack let me—"

Ianto's eyes flashed, and the Doctor knew that he'd made a mistake. Ianto took a step closer, the gun almost pressing into the Doctor's forehead. One twitch of Ianto's trigger-finger and—

"One twitch of my finger and your brains will be splattered all across the wall," Ianto growled. He readjusted his grip on the gun slightly. "And believe me – it'd be worth the clean-up just to see if that so-called 'regeneration' process I've read about comes into effect when your brains are contributing to our interior design."

"Understood," the Doctor said, trying not to think about how much that would have to sting. "What—"

"Why did you stun Jack?"

The Doctor sighed. "I need to fix this," he said quietly. "I need to get in contact with the aliens and _fix this_."

"How d'you intend to do that?" Ianto's eyes were dark with barely-suppressed fury.

"Let me go and you'll see," the Doctor tried.

"No deal," Ianto said. His inflection was like a shower of ice crystals, probing and stabbing and _cold_. "You tell me exactly what's going on or…" he raised his eyebrows, his intent clear in his eyes, "…_bang_."

The Doctor's gaze flicked to the red light above Ianto's head, at the very rise of the arch. It was flickering slightly, the bulb clearly beginning to fail. _Shows how long it's been,_ he thought.

"Now," Ianto said, "_tell me what's happening._"

"I… The aliens had the technology stolen from them," the Doctor said in a rush, almost falling over his words. "The technology's being used to steal DNA."

Ianto narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "I think you'd better show me exactly what you mean to do," he said, not lowering his gun an inch. "Try anything funny…and I'll shoot."

"Got it," the Doctor said. "Now, if you wouldn't mind putting away that gun—"

"No." Ianto didn't bat an eyelid. "This gun stays aimed on your head. Now get moving."

The Doctor considered refusing to move, but decided that it really wasn't worth it. "Right away, then," he said briskly, taking a step towards the stairs. The gun didn't move. "Seriously, that gun is really off-putting," the Doctor tried again.

"Shut up and start walking," Ianto said, his jaw clenched and his eyes glittering. "I don't want to have to warn you again."

The Doctor nodded – keeping his movements slow as to not startle the Torchwood agent – and started up the stairs, hands still held up by his ears.

-T-

Jack woke up to see the Doctor and Ianto vanish up the staircase, Ianto holding the time-lord at gun-point. He frowned. _What the—?_

Oh. He remembered now. He sat up and put a hand to his head; luckily, he had escaped with only a rather startled shock of hair. "Great," he muttered. "My day is doing just _wonderful_."

He staggered to his feet, his vision blurring and spinning rather alarmingly. He felt sick to his stomach; what had the Doctor used on him? Some sort of stunning device, he concluded, and a powerful one at that. He didn't remember dying, however, which was some relief. At least the Doctor hadn't completely lost it.

Following them up the spiral staircase, Jack couldn't help but try to listen in on their conversation. Or rather, the lack of it.

"So…" the Doctor was saying; Jack could hear the underlying nervousness in his tone. "What exactly are you planning on making me do?"

"You said you knew how to fix it."

"Yes, but…what if it goes wrong?"

A pause. "Then we'll just have to try something else," Ianto said in resignation.

The Doctor chuckled. "I think I like you, Ianto Jones."

"The feeling isn't mutual."

"I had guessed that, actu—"

"Through here," Ianto interrupted. There came the sound of a door opening, and Jack assumed they were entering the main basin of the Hub. He stopped, listening for the close of the door.

Which never came.

Instead, he heard a buzzing sound and a yell of pain; he raced up the last few steps three at a time, to see the Doctor carefully lowering a stunned Ianto to the floor. The semi-automatic clattered to the floor, firing as it fell. A glass panel shattered, somewhere in the shadows; the Doctor jumped and leapt away from Ianto as if stung.

Jack removed his webley from its holster and aimed it at the Doctor's chest. "Hands up!" he ordered, his heart pounding. _Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, _the voice in his head chanted. _You don't point guns at the Doctor – never point guns at the Doctor. _

_Tough luck, _Jack thought, fury clouding his vision.

"Jack?" the Doctor looked startled, holding his hands up by his head and eyeing the gun warily. "I know this looks bad, but just let me explain—"

"I trusted you," Jack said, almost shaking with anger, though he kept his gun-arm steady. "I gave you one last chance."

"And I mucked that up, I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot." Jack felt hollow. He barely recognised the gangly man standing in front of him; this wasn't the Doctor. It couldn't be. The Doctor wouldn't do this. He wouldn't—

"I know how to fix this."

"So do I," Jack spat. "This bullet, your head. Simple."

"Nonononononono – let me explain!" The Doctor had his hands up still, although they were more placating than wary now.

"You lied to me. Why should I trust you?"

"You'll try to stop me if I do this," the Doctor said softly. "But I have to do this. There's no other choice."

"Tell me. And if you lie…" Jack let it trail off, his meaning clear.

The Doctor swallowed, his eyes darting from the gun to Jack's face. "This was never meant to happen," he said. "This wasn't in the timelines. I have to remove it."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to remove your memories. Then go back to 1652 and change what happened."

"That's meddling with the timelines," Jack said. He shook his head. "I can't let you do that."

"You have to."

"I can't," Jack said.

"You have to," the Doctor repeated. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"Why should I?" Jack asked, lowering his gun. "Tell me, Doctor. What am I supposed to do?"

"Let me do what needs to be done. Sit with Ianto until he wakes up, do whatever you two do, and let me do what I have to."

"If you try anything…" Jack warned, holstering his webley, "I won't hesitate to shoot you."

The Doctor regarded Jack with sad eyes. "Does it always have to involve guns, Jack?"

"You didn't seem so averse to that stunner, yourself." Jack crouched down to check Ianto's pulse, relieved to find it sure and steady. He stroked Ianto's cheek, willing him to wake up. _C'mon, Ianto, it's just a stunner… Wake up already… _

"He'll wake up in a couple of hours," the Doctor said.

"If you've hurt him—"

"I haven't hurt him," the Doctor snapped impatiently. "Now, are you going to let me get on with this or keep wasting time?"

Jack took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself. "Okay. Do it."

The Doctor held out his hand, already rooting around in his pocket for his sonic screwdriver.

"What?" Jack asked, looking confused.

"Vortex Manipulator."

"I'm not—" Jack broke off, and with a resigned sigh took off the leather wristband and handed it over. "I hope you know what you're doing."

-T-

Light. Bright light. Burning. Burning his eyes, stabbing at his brain. Pain – such pain. The Doctor gasped, covering his eyes with his hands, to no avail.

"I've changed time," he breathed, in dreadful realisation. "I've done it."

And the fantastic light grabbed him and swept him away in a current of confusion and chaos. White fire licked at his body, destroying him from the inside-out. The pain—

And then two arms were holding him securely, and a familiar American-accented voice was saying, "It's okay, Doc – I've got you."

The Doctor closed his eyes, the tide of burning light fading away as the immortal carried him out of the ripping-apart of existence itself.

-T-

"What happens now?" Jack asks. If the Doctor didn't know him better, he would have thought that Jack was scared. But the great Captain Jack Harkness doesn't get scared. Not ever.

The Doctor shrugged, time still rippling all around him, golden streaks still entwined around his hands and arms, caressing his fingers, threatening to burn. "I guess I need to fix it so that you won't remember it. So that it'll never have existed." He smiled, though he knew that it was bitter. "After all, memories are the key to existence."

"That's not always the case," Jack argued, his eyes following the Doctor's hands, hypnotised by the shimmering coils. "You can't take our memories, Doctor. You can't. You…"

The Doctor frowned at him. "Jack, snap out of it."

Jack was still staring at the impossible threads of fire, his face starting to slacken.

"Jack!"

Jack blinked and shook his head. "Sorry," he said, looking embarrassed. "It's just so…"

"Time's still on the brink of falling apart, Jack," the Doctor said. "We can't leave it teetering on the brink like this."

Jack's brows drew together in a frown. "That reminds me – how exactly _did_ you change time?"

The Doctor held up a hand, watching the strands of white-gold flame winding around his fore-arms like snakes. "I think that's better left secret," he said, knowing that he sounded enigmatic and mysterious, and getting a slight kick out of it.

Jack clearly didn't believe him, but refrained from pushing. "You still can't take our memories," he said. He nodded over at where he had laid Ianto on the couch, the Welshman still out cold. "I don't want to lose what I've got."

"You won't," the Doctor said, surprised. "I'm only taking away the past few— Oh. I see." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, momentarily forgetting about the gold. He looked back at Jack to see the Captain staring at him in part fascination, part horror. "What?"

Jack nodded at him. "You're glowing, Doctor. Glowing."

"Am I?" The Doctor touched his hair. It seemed just the same as normal.

Then he felt it. That whisper in his mind. The sensual caress that remained entirely mental. "Oh," he whispered, entranced.

_Do it. _

"Do what?" the Doctor asked_. Painpleasurepainpleasureburningstoppleasestop—_

The Doctor gasped, his senses flooding with the entirety of the fire. Jack's voice, faint and distant: _"Do … tor? Wha … s … app … nin'?"_

"Oh," the Doctor said again, as all of time was displayed to him in its full glory, ripping his mind into infinite pieces and scattering them throughout his consciousness. "I understand now."

"_You … derstand … at?" _

"All of it." The Doctor closed his eyes, then opened them again, now able to see Jack's terrified face staring at him and begging him to explain, to make things alright again. "I have to fix it."

"How? Doctor?"

"Sorry, Jack." The Doctor held up a hand and golden light streamed from his palm to hit Jack square in the face and tumble him backwards onto the couch by Ianto; then they both were swept up in a tidal wave of fire and burning and light, being hurtled into something new and being created at that very second.

Time itself was being rewritten.

And the Doctor threw back his head, lifted his arms above his head and laughed, the wind and flames whirling the sound away and amplifying it so that he could hear it from every direction, from every time. Laughing throughout infinity.

Exhilarated, the Doctor laughed and _laughed._

-T-

Time was back in its usual flux, the Doctor noted as he stealthily slipped down the ladder into Jack's room beneath his office. Only the memories to remove, then.

Jack's voice echoed in his head

The Doctor gazed sadly at the sleeping men in front of him. "I'm really, really sorry about this," he told them, even though he knew that they couldn't hear him. "I've done some pretty bad things in my time, but this has to rank up with the worst of them."

Jack had his head tucked in against Ianto's neck, his hand splayed possessively over the younger man's chest. Ianto's face looked relaxed and open in his sleep, his fingers wound through Jack's hair and his cheeks flushed pink. He looked so young, almost angelic; more importantly, he looked in love. How could the Doctor take that from him?

The Doctor tasted bitter regret in his mouth, the guilt weighing down his tongue. Before he could break his resolve, he retrieved the blue vial from his jacket pocket and held it up to the light falling in through the manhole. "Advanced version of your retcon," he said softly. "It'll rewrite your memories of the last couple of months." He smiled bitterly. "What wouldn't I give for it to work on me, too. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I…I don't know what I wanted. I wanted to help them, I guess. They're the last of their race, too." His smile twisted and faded. "Look what happened. Or rather, what didn't happen." He grimaced. "That's one hell of a paradox I've created. There's going to be consequences, I know. And I'm sorry, but I've given you longer – I've given you more. And I've taken more," he admitted in a low voice. "I'm sorry."

Ianto mumbled something in his sleep, his fingers tightening reflexively in Jack's hair. The Doctor hesitated, watching for any signs of either of them waking, then carefully, almost reverently, twisted open the vial and let the pale blue gas escape; it quickly faded into the air, and the Doctor stowed the sapphire glass in his pocket once more before making his escape up the ladder and closing the manhole behind him.

Before he headed up to the Tourist Information office, the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the mainframe computer, quickly crashing the computer and corrupting the data on the mission logs. He had to wipe every last detail of the past two months from Torchwood; Gwen and her husband had already been wiped, as had Tosh, Owen, Martha and Donna. None of them could be allowed to remember. They couldn't be allowed to remember what didn't technically exist.

Once the door of the office closed behind him, the Doctor let out a long sigh, and walked to the rail; he leant over, staring down into the dark, watery depths beneath the walkway of Mermaid Quay. As he expected, a silver-brown mullet rose to the surface and fixed him with an inquisitive yellow eye.

"It's done," the Doctor said. He looked out across the water, to where the sun was beginning to rise; blood-coloured rays extended out across the water, bleeding into the surging blue-green and spilling everywhere, until the water was no longer distinguishable from the sky; both were a striking mixture of reds, oranges, blues and purples all blended together to form one great landscape with the burning sun as a centrepiece, a great ball of fire akin to those featured in numerous prophecies.

The fish didn't respond. When the Doctor looked down, he saw that the water was empty, devoid of anything but a shadow flickering beneath the surface, racing away across the ocean.

With a heavy heart, the Doctor turned and strode across the Plass to the TARDIS, not looking back even the once. He'd done what he had to do; his job was done. Now he – and Donna, when she awoke – had the rest of time and space to explore. Until the paradox began requesting its compensation on the universe, that was.

Until then, he had to run, and keep running. He wasn't Jack, he couldn't fight the inevitable in an attempt at happiness; he was the one who stole the happiness, who destroyed the lives. And for what?

That was an answer he was still searching for. But, in the meantime, he still had planets to save, in an attempt for the pain he knew he would bring.

For he was the Oncoming Storm. He may well have met his match in one Ianto Jones; so _un-_powerful it was almost comical, but with the love to turn an immortal man against his greatest friend despite the threat of a Storm.

But the Welsh were used to rain, right?

FINIS


End file.
